Losers
by kelly54me
Summary: This is a sequel to The Hunt. Blake didn't ask for a visit to hell on earth but he got one anyway. Now he's doing his best to leave that place in the past where it belongs. Miles has done things that can't be undone, and it might be too late to change. Unfortunately for them, the past has a bad habit of ruining the future. M for language and violence
1. Moonlight

AN: Looks like we're back for round three. A couple quick announcements: this is technically a crossover between Outlast 1&2, but 2 doesn't have a category on fanfic yet so I improvised. Also, Blake is a main character here, but there wasn't a way to select that when listing characters. Anyways, I'll be updating every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Please enjoy.

.***.

It had been a long night in hell. I held Lynns daughter - my daughter - in my hands. I watched Lynn die, oh god. She... she said that there was nothing there. Her last words were "there's nothing there". I can't blame her, I'm not so faithful after seeing all the shit Knoth and his fake Christians did. But, why would she say there was nothing there? She had to have meant there was no heaven. Not after what they did to her, there's no God that would let that happen.

She said there was nothing there and then died.

Lynn died.

I had to keep myself from breaking down, I wasn't safe there. A storm fit to flood the earth raged outside. I crumbled to the floor, my legs no longer having the strength to stand.

I don't know how long I was down. It couldn't have been long. I had been running for my life for half the night and now the sun was rising. That fat bastard Knoth was there when I woke up.

He told me to kill my daughter. He said to crush her to death. He slit his throat.

Was I safe now?

Lynn's cold, bloated, and bloodied body laid on the table to the left.

I couldn't save her. I couldn't save Jessica. I couldn't save anyone.

I stood up and staggered through the storm ravaged temple.

The bundle of cloth in my arms didn't cry out at the movement, instead she was silent as a little angle. The town -Temple Gate- was in shreds. The sun, the red looming sun, sat on the horizon across the hills and canyon.

I picked my way through the rubble.

I couldn't save Lynn. It wasn't my fault. None of this was my fault.

The ground shook and ripped itself skyward. I found myself flat on the ground with an exploding sun above me. For a split second the night-cooled desert sand was all I had below me then I was gone.

No, that's not right. I was back at school. It was the fourth grade. I was with Jessica in the cafeteria pantry, she asked me to pray with her.

Right, that's it. She asked me to pray…

"Mister Langermann?" The doctor had stopped scribbling notes into the pad in his lap, "Blake?"

"What? Oh, was I rambling again?" I buried my face in a hand to try to wipe away the memory.

I was at the psychiatrist's office. I was in Phoenix. I was safe here.

I looked up from my palm to find Jessica holding a little bundle of rags just behind the doctor.

"It's okay. You're here to talk about whatever you need to talk about." his words were reassuring, almost fatherly.

"I'm sorry- I just." I took a few deep breaths and tried to look away from the phantom "I just keep going back there. I… I can't get it out of my head."

The doctor hummed knowingly and scribbled away, "are you keeping up with your medication?"

I had a nearly empty bottle of pills rolling around one of my pockets right now.

"Yes, of course." I had too, they were the only things letting me sleep at night.

"And how is the therapy for your hands going?" He was trying to steer the conversation onto something lighter, something less likely to take me back to Temple Gate.

I appreciated the gesture and tried my best to curl my hands shut "it's slow, but I can almost type half as fast as I used to."

"That's good progress." The doctor mindfully wrote something more.

I let a small silence settle before I went back to speaking.

"Doctor Benson," he looked up, his hand stopped moving across the page, "umm… my daughter, I know… I know no one found her, but… she was there. I know she was there."

The doctor looked at me with a carefully hidden clinical gaze.

He took a heavy breath out "Blake, we've been over this"

"I know!" spoke a bit faster and louder than I head meant to "I know. But I saw her, I don't know how it happened, but other people saw her. I…" I thought I had it on camera, but I hadn't actually gotten her on tape "No. No, she was there."

"Blake, when we go through extreme trauma, our brains try their best to make since of it. You spent the night in terrible conditions. There were people there saying and doing terrible, terrible, things. It makes sense that you would try to rationalize it. And that might mean inviting a child to help you cope with Lynn."

He was walking on eggshells with his words. I had heard this speech a dozen times before; I knew he sounded sane, really I did. I knew that I was rambling, I knew that.

But, "I know what I saw."

Doctor Benson looked back at me with pity.

"I…" I had to change the subject "how much time do I have left?"

Benson shook his sleeve back from his wrist to get a look at the watch underneath.

"About fifteen minuets Blake."

Jessica still stood behind the doctor. He noticed that I was staring off into the distance.

"Is she here again?"

I tried to blink the image away, Jessica stared back at me.

"Try the breathing exercises we talked about."

It took all the effort I had to turn my head and close my eyes. I took a deep breath and counted to five before letting it out. I repeated this two more times.

The room was bathed in the same thin gray light that I had left it in. There was no one behind doctor Benson.

"There you go, better now?"

I gave a half hearted answer of "yes"

"You mentioned a new job earlier? How is that going?"

Here we went with changing subjects again.

"Well, I'm still working at the same paper I always have. I'm only freelancing for the police" Benson knew that already. He just wanted to fill the time up and get me talking. I was just going to leave here to sit in my empty house, so I should be thankful for the conversation.

"Yes, photographing evidence and such. That's very important work you know, they need someone to do it."

They need someone to do it. They shouldn't rely on me. No one should. I couldn't save them. I couldn't save any of them.

"Right, right. It's important work" I rubbed a stiff hand across my temple.

"How has it been going with the other doctors?"

"I finished treatment if that's what you're asking me. They've got me on painkillers and a penicillin regimen, but I'm doing fine." As fine as I could be after getting nailed to a cross and force fed syphilis infected blood.

"That is what I'm asking. It's good that you're doing well." He went back to scribbling down notes.

Speaking of, I had to pick up my prescriptions from the store.

Doctor Benson opened his mouth to speak once more, only to be interrupted by the chirping of an alarm.

"Oh, well it looks like our time is up." He laid the pen on a table that sat to the side of his chair.

I made my way to standing before he had the chance to turn off the alarm. The doctor followed suit and was walking with me towards the door before long.

"Have a nice day Blake. I'll see you next week, and please, if there is anything you need to talk about before then don't hesitate to call me." he held his hand out to shake in goodbye.

I returned the gesture, though my hand didn't grip very tightly around his.

"Thank you Doctor, I'll be in for my next appointment."

I left for the main lobby.

It wouldn't take long to pay for the session and then be out the door.

The waiting room was empty when I got there, the only hint of life was the receptionist behind the window along the far side of the wall. I walked to her, she spoke with quick and impatient words, like she was just there because someone expected her to be.

You and me both lady.

I wrote a check for the same amount I had for each of the other twelve weeks I'd been here. Without much ceremony I slid the piece of paper to the woman behind the counter. With equally little comment she took it and recorded the payment in a ledger.

"Have a nice day ma'am" I said before turning to leave the building.

She hadn't answered before the door swung shut behind me.

The sun sat bright in a clear blue sky, despite that there was still a slight chill in the air that said it was winter time in the desert. I walked across the nearly empty lot to my car. The inside of it was sun warmed and nearly hot enough to be uncomfortable, I slumped into the driver seat regardless. I twisted the keys in the ignition and the engine rumbled to life, I took a look in the rearview.

Jessica looked back at me.

I took a breath and started counting.

A baby started crying.

I took a breath.

Lynn was screaming from the back of the car.

I took a breath.

When I opened my eyes, there was no one in the back seat.

I dug around for the bottle of medication in my pocket. One dose in the morning and one in the evening, that's what the prescription said. It was passed five now and I needed it.

I swallowed the pills with a mouthfull of warm water form a bottle in the passenger seat. There wasn't much traffic on the street when I pulled out of the parking lot. I had to go to the pharmacy, then I would go home.

.***.

A man stepped past yellow plastic strips that warned of a crime scene ahead.

Cold night-time wind sliced through the desert canyon and cut deep into the man who said nothing as he walked by the moonlight. The town in the canyon below had no living souls to call it home, instead only broken boards and a few sun baked stains were left to speak of the people that had once farmed the land and worshiped in the steeple church.

The man that walked through the night did not stop to consider the lives that had once been here. Instead he stepped through a roped off town square and up a cobbled path that lead to a locked building. The padlock fell like dust before the man was close enough to see it, the tape on the door demanded that no one pass that point. The man did not listen.

A gash in the ceiling let moonlight flood the building. A few numbered tents sat on the ground here and there. In another lifetime the man would have been searching for meaning behind the numbered clues, in another lifetime he would have scribbled notes and collected images. He was here for something bigger than that now, something that brought him to a stop at a rusted stain on the ground just below what could only be described as a medieval torture rack.

This place reeked of madness and something else. Something that pulsed and throbbed under the withered floor boards.

This place reeked of a madness that lay hidden even from him.

The man in the moonlight left the abandoned town of Temple Gate. The man in the moonlight had sworn to stop this madness.


	2. House Call

AN: Hello again, just a quick heads up this story will change to an M rating on Friday. Thanks to EyelessEmpire13 for reviewing the last chapter and thanks to everyone for reading. Here's your chapter please enjoy:

.***.

The only thing to greet me when I got home was a living room filled with ghosts of the past.

I tossed the bag from the pharmacy onto the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room, the thin waxy paper was the only sound in the house. A picture sitting on the edge of the table watched the crumpled bag settle in place. I picked up the photograph.

It was from my honeymoon, Lynn and I had gone to Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Lynn looked back at me with a smile from underneath a gaudy mask of green and gold. I set the frame back in its place on the counter.

I couldn't save her.

I pushed the thought away and went fishing through the refrigerator for something to eat. I wasn't hungry, not by a long shot. My appetite never really came back and everything tasted like sawdust. Never mind that when I did actually eat something that wasn't prepackaged crap it couldn't be remotely under cooked. Hell, at this point I had trouble keeping down anything that had meat in it. Anything red was out of the question too.

Eventually I dug out a styrofoam container will some leftover mexican in it. Beans, cheese, and rice. I could handle that. I threw it into the microwave and leaned against the counter while I waited.

Lynn looked back at me from the small frame.

"You like her don't you?" Jessica spoke from nowhere and everywhere at once.

I looked to the ground.

No, that wasn't real. It wasn't real. She was just in my head. That was it. Just in my-

The beeping of the microwave brought me back to the kitchen. With a huff I collected the food and went to the couch. I didn't bother with the TV, the last thing I needed was more things to mishear. Instead I picked up my laptop from the coffee table. The footage was saved onto here. I had to have seen our daughter, there had to be proof. I know I had seen her, I knew it.

I knew what I saw.

I clicked through more clips than I would like to admit.

I had to know what was real. Sure, maybe I started loosing it a little bit. Sure, maybe I started calling Lynn Jessica. Sure, maybe a little of the crazy rubbed off on me. But I knew what I saw. A still image that was mostly red flashed by, I played it.

The whole place was bathed in a red shower. I had seen that. It was pouring blood, I had it on camera, that part had been real.

The swarm of locusts that knocked me from the brocken railway was there. It had been real.

The flashes of bright white light. They had stunned men and killed small animals, I had that. I had that on film. They were real.

Static. Far too many recordings were just static with some distorted sounds. No, I had been back at my elementary school. I had seen it, I knew that would be insane, but I was there. I knew it.

The last couple of clips, they were of Lynn and the storm. She was hurt, I had been there. She was pregnant, I don't know how it happened over the course of one night, but I had seen it. The camera never panned down far enough for me to be able to check through.

I had seen it.

I know what I saw.

I tried to click back to the beginning of the clip. My fingers wouldn't make fine enough movements to get me where I wanted to go though, and I was invested in the struggle when there was a knock at the door.

"Oh shit!..."

The loud knocking lessened down to even tapping. I took a second to let my heart rate go down from the surprise.

A muffled voice came from outside.

"Blake? Are you in there? Blake?"

I unburied myself from the laptop and styrofoam take out container. I knew that voice, it wasn't Lynn or even Jessica. It was Mitchell, a friend from work.

I cracked the front door open enough to see Mitchell without him getting the chance to see too far in.

He looked more disheveled than usual, with his normally gelled hair sticking out in too many directions to be a stylistic choice. "I've been calling you, but you didn't pick up. I was worried you might of…"

I blinked against the light from the sun.

"...anyways. Is everything ok, can I come in?"

"I'm fine Mitchell, really."

He didn't believe me, I didn't really believe me either.

"Do you need some company maybe? I don't need to be anywhere."

"I appreciate the gesture," really, I did. But I just didn't want to put up an act for anyone right now.

"Please, I insist. I'm worried about you man, have you been eating?" He forced his way past me as gently as he could manage.

Not that I put up much of a fight. Doctor Benson had said that it was important to talk to people, to try to get back to reality.

"Actually, I just sat down for dinner" I told Mitchell's back while the man walked into my house.

"Good. Great!" he stumbled around my living room until he found the light switch on the wall.

I hadn't bothered turning it on when I got home. There was a weak gold light flitting through the blinds and I didn't want all the pictures of Lynn on the wall staring at me - the one on the kitchen counter was enough.

The ceiling fan and its lights clicked on.

"Jesus christ Blake," Mitchell spoke from the near wall, staring at my living room "you got to put some of this shit away. It can't be healthy to have all this on the walls."

I clicked the door shut behind him.

The now lighted room that greeted me when I turned around had strings of crime scene photos hanging just a above the images of happier days that lived in picture frames.

"Just… I know you're freelancing for the police department to make ends meet, but…"

Mitchell took a step towards a string of photos.

I forget the case number, it had been a home robbery. The family made it out with a few scratches, the dog hadn't been so lucky.

"...damn…" Mitchell said under his breath.

"My therapist says it's good that I picked up a second job." I made a half assed attempt at justifying the pictures.

In truth they made everything a little more distant. Temple Gate couldn't have been that bad if there were other things just like it happening here, right? Right?

"Your therapist needs a therapist" Mitchell spoke, only looking away from the wall of photos after considerable effort.

"Doctor Benson's doing the best he can." I went back to my couch, Mitchell plopped down, uninvited, beside me.

He picked the computer up, took one glance at the screen and then shut it before setting it to the side.

"I thought you said you were eating, not taking a trip down memory lane."

"I was just… look Mitch, I've had a long day." I pulled the leftovers back into my lap.

"It's alway a long day with you." he clicked the TV on.

There was a news program on, Mitchell quickly changed it.

"There's no need for that I think, you've got enough bad news in here."

I knew he was talking about the grisly crime scenes that lined the walls: images of twisted metal from a nasty car crash on I-17, charred wood and bones from a house fire in Scottsdale, shattered and bloody glass from an industrial accident. The scenes from the police station didn't phase me, it was Lynn watching me from behind the pictures that set my skin crawling.

The TV settled into some sort of reality show, I didn't pay it much attention.

"So, you're just here to check up on me? Wait, don't tell me Borris and Claire asked you to do it."

"No one put me up to a house call. I was just worried about you, man. You ran out of the office like you'd seen a ghost and were muttering like a madman. Then when we tried to call you didn't pick up, and -well- I just wanted to make sure you didn't do anything… permanent."

"You mean you were coming by to make sure I hadn't hanged myself." I took a bite out of the enchilada in the box.

"Well," Mitchell hesitated for a second, as if saying it out loud would make me do it "yes, you haven't been the same since last October"

"Wow, I wonder why" I stared at the TV without really letting it register.

"Lynn wouldn't want you living like this, man. She'd want you back out there, living life. Looking for the next big thing. Maybe you could do a follow up story on what happened, maybe you'd get some closure that way."

He was trying to help. I could tell he meant well, really he did.

But, "follow up on what? Everyone who was there is dead. I walked over the bodies myself. There's nothing there, there never was, and it's better if everyone just forgets the whole thing ever happened."

"But-"

"No. I'm not talking about it. It's gone, it's done. It has to be done. That place isn't coming back, everyone died. It was just a bunch of crazy fucks in the desert. A bunch of twisted, evil, child murdering monsters. No."

Mitchell looked wide eyed at me. The dinner plate I had on my lap had fallen to the floor, staining the carpet.

"Damn it…" I hadn't even noticed it slipping.

"Sorry I brought it up man. Do you want some help cleaning that up?"

"No, you should go. Thanks for checking up on me." I sighed, defeated, as I stood up and walked to the kitchen.

"You sure? I could-"

"I'll see you tomorrow at work." I dug around the cupboards for a clean towel.

"Ok, if you need anything just call"

"Good bye."

The front door shut behind Mitchell before I stood back up, towel in hand. Luckily it was mostly rice that fell onto the floor, through the little bit of beans that went with them left a brown spot. In frustration I just left the towel over the spot. I would worry about that later.

First things first, I went to the front door to reset the locks. I clicked the deadbolt into place and was halfway to resetting the chain when a sharp scream split the air.

My skin spasmed, my heart thundered.

"Shit!" I fidgeted with the locks in a fight to get outside.

I had a hand on the handle when the screaming dissolved into laughter and too-loud voices.

The TV.

I huffed to try to calm my nerves. This time when I set the lock my hands ached from the movement. Once done I clicked the TV off, I didn't need more voices in this house. The silence of my living room grew thick, the gaze of the pictures on the wall threatened to suffocate me. Next on the to do list was the lights.

They turned off without ceremony. The room was darker than before with the light from outside having faded with the setting sun.

I wasn't getting anything done today.

I walked past the couch and past the master bedroom door.

I hadn't gone in there since that day. The bed was unmade and untouched, the closet had a load of cleaned laundry waiting to be folded and hung, Lynn's notebooks were still in there.

The door to the master bedroom stayed shut, I went to the little guest room instead. Without thought or care I shuffled out of my day cloths and collapsed onto the bed. Sleep would come eventually but the night mares would be close behind.

.***.  
The man sat in front of a glowing computer screen at a public library. The internet was infinite and in an old life the man had used it to seek out the most obscure and most damning of secrets.

What he was looking for now was not some deep thing hidden from prying eyes. A single google search lead him exactly where he wanted to go.

The man couldn't help a twisted grin from snaking across his lips.

Why couldn't everything be this easy?

An article from some tabloid in Phoenix was the top result, written by some no name reporter. There was a line at the bottom,

 _In memory of Lynn Langermann, a brave woman._

The smile painted on the man's face faltered for a second, his lead had disappeared on him. A few annoyed clicks brought him through the site and to the staff page, there had to be someone else credited with the story. The list of names was short and each was accompanied by a picture, it must have been a small paper.

The man in the library stopped short at a familiar word.

First name Blake, last name Langermann.

Was he a husband? A brother? Either way the man decided that Blake was the closest thing he had to a lead.


	3. Bright and Early

AN: Happy Friday everyone, I feel like it should go without saying that things start to get a bit rough from here on out (I changed the rating for a reason after all). Thanks for reading and if you're feeling up to it maybe leave a review, feedback is always appreciated. In the mean time please enjoy:

.***.

"Be careful little eyes what you see, be careful little eyes what you see"

I stumbled through the old hallways of my elementary school.

"Jessica? Jessica!"

More singing echoed through the dim halls

"There's a father up above, and he's looking done in love,"

I opened a door to the cafeteria, another deeper voice joined the first:

"So, be careful little eyes what you see."

Beyond the windows was the snow blanketed courtyard, what should have been soft white was a red deep enough to be called black. The last of the singing echoed out of the air.

A light appeared from the far wall and split the darkness that shrouded the room. From the light stepped a tall twisted figure, limbs ripped off and shoved back into impossible places. A whip like tongue lashed around the thing as a gargled hiss escaped its jawless maw.

"Shit!" I twisted around to rip at the door behind me.

It was locked.

Shitshitshitshitshit.

I broke out in a sprint for the other side of the room.

The things tentacle tongue jutted out and tethered my ankle. My face hit the ground, I ripped at the floor, trying desperately to break away. Fleshy fibres traced across the ground and wove their way over me.

I could move just enough to see the demon loom over me, a distorted ringing dripped from its mouth. I clinched my eyes shut. No, no. I didn't want to see this. Not again. The demon pressed down, nearly suffocating me.

I opened my eyes in a panic to find the same ringing coming from my bed side. I shook in bed and fought to get my breathing back to steady.

It's ok. I'm at home. It was a dream, only a dream.

Trying my best to ignore the cold sweat that clung to my skin I forced myself to sit up.

The screen of my cell phone cast a bright white light into the room, with blurry vision I groped for it.

"Hello?" I tried my best not to sound half asleep.

"Mr. Langermann?" I distantly familiar voice spoke from the phone.

"Speaking"

"This is Sergeant Delarosa, Detective Morris said to call you."

Detective Morris worked homicide, had there been a home invasion? What time was it? I slumped up in bed and blindly reached for my glasses.

"Let me guess, I need to take some pictures?"

"Yes. Be at," there was a sigh on the other end of the line "Four Rent Weekly, it's at 4323 North 27th avenue, just off of I-17."

I had found my glasses.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes." I hung up, the light from the screen cut off, leaving me in the dark. The clock on the nightstand had the time written on it in sharp green numbers: 3:23 AM.

I crawled from the covers and threw on whatever clothes were closest. It took all of two minutes. I kept a duffle bag with camera equipment in it next to the front door.

Locking the place back up took more time than actually leaving.

The car was cold with the night, I thought I saw gray shapes moving around the house, a few hungry grunts and screams slipped into the car.

It wasn't real. They weren't there. No one was there.

I put the car into reverse.

The streets were empty, with it being far too early for the world to have started to work and much too late for the partiers to still be out. It didn't take long to find the right exit from I-17. I'd been called out here before, the area was rough. The red and blue lights that told me I was in the right spot were visible before I hit my exit.

Pulling up I nearly had to shield my eyes from the flashing lights, there were so many of them.

Two, three, four, five, cruisers. An ambulance. Enough crime scene tape to tie down a jumbo jet. What had happened here? It was a rough neighborhood, sure. But it looked like half the department had come out.

I parked off to the side and pulled my duffle bag from the back seat.

I didn't get within twenty feet of the yellow tape before someone in a blue uniform told me to stop.

"I- Uh. Hold on…" I fidgeted with my uncooperative hands to get my ID out.

"He's with me." a tall and broad black man with an impossible to miss badge clipped to his belt called as he walked up behind the uniformed officer.

"Detective Morris," I ducked under the tape "what's going on?" I continued digging through my bag, this time in search of a camera.

"On the record?"

"Off, I'm here on the department's dime right now. Not on the papers." something that my boss wasn't happy about, but he wasn't offering extra cash for an inside scoop and I had bills to pay.

"In that case, nobody has a damn clue what happened." He continued walking me through the scene.

A couple of EMTs sat in the back of the ambulance chatting. Shouldn't they be - I don't know - loading someone up or something?

"What about on the record?" we passed a younger officer vomiting in the bushes, I was almost afraid to ask.

Morris shrugged "drug deal gone wrong? There's not an official story yet."

He stopped just before we rounded a corner.

"One more thing Blake, you're seeing a shrink, right?"

What did that have to do with anything?

"Yes?"

Morris hummed knowingly and nodded his head slightly, "you might be able to start getting the department to cover that."

The broad man stepped back. What was that about? Before I had too much time to dwell I went around the building with camera in hand. I kept my breathing steady. As bad as they thought it was, I had to have seen worse. Right?

I looked up from my camera.

It was raining blood.

The moon in the sky sat tindged with a ghostly red hue. Hot, sticky fluid leaked from the sky and splattered across the ground. My shoes had to be peeled from the floor for every step I took. A rusty stench clung to the air and seeped into my cloths along with the browning blood.

Ok, breath.

The rickety patio above me leaked.

Breath, close your eyes.

The steady dripping of liquid tapped the ground.

Breath.

I nearly lost my balance on the sticky fluid.

I opened my eyes.

The building was actually dripping blood.

Heavy footsteps that sounded like they were walking through a puddle came from behind me.

"I don't even want to think about the crazy son of a bitch that did this." It was Detective Morris.

I had seen worse.

Right?

Lynn. Jessica. Scalled. Heretics. Knoth. Lynn. Jessica.

Yes. I had seen worse, definitely.

Without a word I went about taking pictures. There was a slightly bigger pile of jellied flesh in the corner. The attack must have caught the victim off guard here, the darkest splattering of blood was against the wall. The shutter of the camera clicked shut, I moved on.

There was no damage to the walls, so no explosives. Somehow.

"It looks like our vic exploded." Morris spoke from over the pile of muscle and bone.

No one in Temple Gate ever exploded. See, there are worse things and this one didn't even happen to me.

"Hey, get a shot of this" Morris had moved from the corner and to the neighboring building.

I took a few steps after him.

We stood on a new patio. This one wasn't caked in a layer of red like the last, though there were browning lines painted onto the wall.

Morris considered the writing on the wall. I took pictures from more angles than were really necessary.

The painting was more a symbol than actual words. It looked vaguely celtic? There were three loops that ended in a point and seemed to weave over each other. Behind that a circle was painted onto the glass.

Morris had called over another cop, "find out who lives in this unit. They might know something about this."

I ignored the cops response and kept looking at the scene instead. Had I seen this shape before? There hadn't been anything like it in Temple Gate, but it seemed hauntingly familiar. While my mind wandered I couldn't help but notice a thinning trail of red that lead around this building.

I took a step or two towards the trail. The alley that greeted me was dim, overgrown and untended to. A quick glance over my shoulder told me Morris was still busy talking.

There was nothing there, nothing that would jump out from the dark at least. I wasn't in Temple Gate and there were too many cops here for anything to go wrong.

Doctor Benson had said that I needed to try to face my fears.

I took a few steps down the alley, pulsing lights of police cruisers lit the place in flashes of red and blue. Garbage cans had been toppled left and right, porch lights had popped and rained shards of glass onto the ground. I snapped pictures as I went. The trail of blood thinned to the point of vanishing. There were footprints in the dusty ground.

The camera lens clicked open and shut as I walked.

The footprints stopped where a bit of dead grass started.

I looked up, I hadn't even noticed I left the apartments through a hole in the fense. I went back to the fence. There were no splinters on the ground, and it hadn't been kicked through. The planks simply stopped, like someone had taken a saw to it and sanded down the edges after they were done.

"What the hell?" I took a few close shots of the wood.

"Hey, mister!" A man called from my left.

I narrowly avoided hitting my shoulder on the fence when I jumped in surprise.

"I work here!" were the first words that came to mind.

It was another officer who had spotted me, this one did not look amused.

"Uhh.. let me get my ID." I fidgeted around with my duffle bag for an uncomfortable amount of time before someone spoke up

"Blake, where are you?" Detective Morris's voice came from the other side of the fence

I had both hands digging through the bag "Over here"

The detective leaned through the hole, the cop raised an eyebrow at him.

"He's with me officer. Blake, you really should just put your ID on a lanyard, or your belt or something"

I just managed to pull the thing from the bag as the detective spoke.

The cop had wandered off at the sight of Morris, my ID sat lamely in a loose hand.

"You're probably right" I told him half heartedly.

"Anyways, what do we have here? An exit point maybe? We got someone talking to the lady who lives in the graffiti unit. She says she didn't see anything, but I'd put money on that being a lie."

The detective looked at the seemingly clear cuts in the wood while he spoke.

"There was a trail leading here, I followed it. I have no idea what could have made these cuts." I spoke from behind him.

"A jig saw? There's no power source though."

"And no saw dust. Could it have been like this already?"

"No, this wood is way too clean to have been exposed for long."

I took a step back, from out here everything looked perfectly normal - discounting the hole in the fence.

"I'll get the rest of CSI out here, maybe they'll be able to figure something out. Did you get pictures of everything in the meantime?"

"Yes." I still had the camera in hand.

"Good, go ahead and get out of here. I'll call you if we need anything else."

I was more than happy to get away from the patio that dripped blood and the memories that it brought back "Sure thing. I'll get the pictures to your desk by the end of the day."

The walk back to the car seemed much shorter than the walk through the crime scene.

I turned the engine on and made to leave the scene as quickly as I could manage. This place gave me a sinking feeling, more than any home invasion or car crash ever did.

.***.

The monster in the moonlight had come to Phoenix.


	4. Contact

AN: Hello once again everybody, hope y'all had a nice weekend. A quick thanks to EyelessEmpire13 for reviewing again, and a thanks to everyone for reading in general. Please enjoy the chapter:

.***.

The sun still hadn't risen when I got home.

Besides locking the door behind me I didn't take any time to make myself at home before taking the still full duffle bag into the laundry room.

When we had first moved in Lynn made it a project to convert the cramped laundry room into a film development room. There were no windows that needed to be blacked out, one door lead to the garage the other to the kitchen. It was still dark out and none of the lights in the house were on, the laundry room was darker than the tomb if you shut both of the doors. I worked in the pitch black, any light now would ruin the film. Only a few months ago I would have been able to pop open the camera, grab the film cartridge, reset the film into a reel, and get everything into a development tank in less than a minute all off of muscle memory. Now I had to deal with fingers that wouldn't curl shut completely and hands that shook and ached at the smallest of requests.

On a normal day it would have taken all of fifteen minutes to go from cartridges in a camera to developed film hanging out to dry; that morning I must have been in there for a good forty.

By the time I put the films up to dry it was nearly six, the sun was still under the horizon.

Reluctantly I flicked on the kitchen light, it was enough to see by but still left most of the living room in shadows. I put a pot of coffee on. I there wasn't enough time to get a nap before work, even if there were I'd gladly take the caffeine over the nightmares.

Over the course of an hour and a half the sun started to show its face. I ate what passed for breakfast these days - some toast, an irresponsible amount of coffee, an embarrassing number of medications. I still had an hour and a half until I was expected at work, I could probably get most of the negatives enlarged, set them out to dry, and drop them at the station at my lunch break.

I went back to the dark room and flicked on the light, the negatives were stable now. The thin films hung around the room, surrounding me with ghostly images of bloody buildings and almost unrecognisable human remains.

It's nothing worse than what I've already seen,

One by one I took the films down and set them on the projector attached to a far wall. While I worked with them I couldn't help but notice that there was something in the background of the pictures. I squinted from behind my glasses. I had just taken my meds, there was no way I was seeing things.

It looked like there was something behind the blood splatter, like there was some darker pattern that had been scribbled on the wall. Were there… people? The shapes in the blood were clearly human sized, but twisted with either too long limbs or too many.

I backed away from the negatives.

That hadn't been there at the crime scene, right?

It must just be dark spots, I must have botched something while I was developing the film. I hope this doesn't ruin the final pictures.

I clicked the main light off and turned the red light on.

There were about four dozen pictures of the scene that actually matter enough to develop. Surprisingly I got through all of them when I heard what would have been my alarm to wake up for work go off in the other room.

Before I left the room I took a last glance at the drying pictures. The scenes were still horrifying, but there were no phantom shapes in the blood.

There must have just been a fluke with the negatives.

I took a second to grab my meds and another cup of coffee from the counter before heading out the door.

The sun was barely up and the day had already been a long one.

.***.

A man walked down the street with a long white cane and eyes hidden by thick black glasses. It was nearing noon when he came to a nondescript office building, a gloved hand pushed the front door open.

When the door swung open a bell chimed, the secretary behind the front desk looked up from her computer screen.

"Excuse me sir?"

The man made his way to the front desk, cane sweeping in front of him as he walked.

"Hi there, I'm looking for the offices of the Phoenix Gazette" while he spoke the man leaned heavily against the table.

"The paper? They're on the third floor." The woman at the front desk picked up a telephone "do you have an appointment?"

"The third floor you say?" he stood back up and made for the elevator across the room "no need to call ahead for me, thanks though." he spoke from over a shoulder before stepping into the elevator.

The doors slid shut before the secretary behind the desk had the chance to respond. She didn't think much of the fact that there was static coming from the phone when she sat the receiver down. She hadn't noticed that the man never pressed a button to call the elevator

.***.

I'm not sure how, but Boris's typing drowned out the rest of the noise from the floor. He had gotten a new keyboard last week and the thing was nearly as loud as his diesel truck. My screen sat in front of me, I did my best to focus on the webpage that filled it. This article was supposed to go live in half an hour and none of the videos were working. Claire was supposed to be our webmaster but she had disappeared an hour ago and wasn't answering her phone.

Click. Click. Click. A throaty female voice seemed to grow out of the sound,

"God loves you. God loves you…"

Click. Click. Click.

"Hey. Boris!" I tucked my head down and rested my chin on a hand, trying my best to crush down the urge to run and hide.

The typing stopped , "yes?"

"Did you… uh…" I didn't want to worry him by saying I was hearing voices come from his keyboard "did you… know what Claire did with the… password to...ummm…"

I still hadn't looked up from my desk, but I could feel his eyes resting on me.

"Password to what?" he asked

"Know what, never mind. Sorry to interrupt you."

Boris shrugged off the interruption and went back to clicking away.

Why wasn't this link working? I clicked through half a dozen menus, checked the code, refreshed the page. I only looked up when I thought I heard someone saying my name.

"Did you say something?" I looked over my screen to Boris.

He was looking to the right, into the rest of the room "no, but I think that guy is looking for you."

I followed Boris's gaze. There was a tall man wearing a jacket with a glove on one hand. He had sunglasses on despite being inside, though the white cane he was carrying suggested he was blind.

"Do you know him?" Boris asked.

"Never seen him in my life."

He had stepped away from Ashleys desk with a good natured smile and was walking this way. Great, the only thing I wanted to do right now was crawl under my desk and cry a little, not play the nice guy game with someone who was in way too good of a mood.

I might have been staring a little more than was appropriate, but as the guy got closer something seemed a little off about him. Maybe it was because of the way he carried himself - stiff and trying too hard to look relaxed. Maybe it was because the skin around his face looked a shade too gray and more than a little clammy - like someone who wasn't quite over a cold. Maybe it was the way no one else seemed to think anything of him - normally you would have to push and shove to get around the crowded desks and busy people but this guy just glided through the room.

Eventually the man's cane tapped against my desk. In my sitting position he towered over me. I stood up to make myself feel a little better only to find that he still had a few good inches on me.

"I'm looking for Blake? Last name Langermann."

I looked at the blank glasses, a warning bell went off in the back of my mind.

"That's me" I spoke up.

Blood rushed in my ears, I heard it moving with each heartbeat.

Calm down. You're at work, there's nothing here. Just get through this conversation, get the article up, and then go home for lunch. You're fine.

"Great, I need to talk to you about the Temple Gate piece - it was credited to a lady named Lynn Langermann. I was just wondering…"

I dry heaved a little and tried unconvincingly to brush it off as a cough.

Boris had stopped typing, "I'm going to go find Claire and get that password" he muttered before hastily disappearing.

Thanks for the support.

"Did I bring up something personal?" The blind man asked from the other end of the desk.

"What did you say your name was?" who the hell was this and why was he barging into my work and asking me about that shit hole?

"Where are my manners, I'm Miles. I've been doing some work on cults in the west, and your article had way too many similarities to be a coincidence."

Bullshit. Bullshit, there was nothing else like Temple Gate, the place was hell on earth.

"Can't help you, sorry." I scrambled to pick up a couple of papers I had been working on.

"Wow, hey Blake. Calm down-"

"Sorry." I hastily made for the elevator. Fuck the article, it could wait.

For someone who couldn't see where they were going Miles kept pace with me too well for comfort.

"Ok, so you saw some crazy shit while you were there. I get it, but I'm working on something important and I could really use-"

I clicked the button for the elevator a few dozen times, "what I saw might as well of been the end of the world. Sorry, everything I know made it onto that article."

The elevator was taking far too long. I made for the stairs instead.

"We both know that's not true. This is a lot more important that you think, what were they doing? Were they summoning something? Or trying to?" Miles followed close behind me, I swung the door to the stairs open.

"Go away, don't make me call security" I tumbled down the first couple of steps, my glasses slipped a little from the commotion. I spared a hand to push them back up, my other hand wasn't cooperating and let a few of the papers I was holding slip.

The pages hit the ground with a thin clatter. Fuck it, they weren't that important. I continued hastily down the stairs.

If Miles said anything else I didn't catch it. I made it to the ground floor and didn't bother to say goodbye to Olivia at the front desk before hurrying out the door. I barely contained the urge to run on my way to the car. I had to fight my shaking hands to get the keys into the ignition, then I had to force myself not to floor it when I pulled onto the street.

My eyes kept glancing into the rearview half expecting to see Miles running after me, or to find Jessica or Lynn in the back seat. After half a dozen looks that found nothing my breathing calmed down enough for me to think strait.

There will be hell to pay for leaving work like that, but I'd deal with that later.

A red light left me stopped at an intersection.

Miles said he was writing a piece on cults in the desert. Temple Gate shure as hell fit that description. But… he had talked like he knew I was there. The article didn't have my name anywhere on it. I had asked Claire to make sure of it. Had that just been a slip of the tongue? Or did this guy know more than he let on.

I was being paranoid; I had to have been reading too much into things.

But still, he asked what they were summoning. None of the anti-christ bullshit they were spouting made it into the article. Nothing about what they did to Lynn was there, no. What made it online was a neutered piece about child murderers.

In the peace of my car it was obvious that I had overreacted. Miles was just a man looking for a lead, I'd seen Lynn be more pushy for information over property rights than that. I probably owed him an apology.

But… even from across the room he set off all the red flags that had kept me alive through Temple Gate.

I'd just been hearing voices from Boris's keyboard. I had to have imagined it.

I reached a hand into my pocket and pulled out a bottle of medication. The clock read twelve o' eight. One in the morning one in the afternoon, I downed a pill with water from the bottle that sat in the passenger seat.

I'd take lunch, drop off the pictures at the station, and then do damage control when I got back to work.

I was right, this had been a long day.


	5. Back Again

AN: Hello again, remember the revolving point of view from the first story? Guess what's (and who's) back!

***Miles's P.O.V***

Well that had been fucking brilliant.

I stood at the top of the stairs. Blake had just disappeared around a bend, barely stopping himself from breaking into a sprint.

 _It's almost impressive how quickly you managed to mess that up._

 **I don't need a pep talk, besides he'll come around eventually.**

A few scattered papers sat here and there on the stairs. I went around picking them up.

 _You don't have long to convince him, I would give it a week before the hunt begins, trying to prevent it is another fool's errand and you know it. You can't stop something this big._

 **That's what you said about the dreamers and they're dead.**

 _Listen to yourself, you're delusional. We've been combing the west and not a week has gone by without some lesser demon trying to slip into some idiots mind. You can put down all the sigils and seals you want, but the hunt is happening._

 **Only over my cold, dead body, and last time I checked you were strictly in favor of me staying alive.**

I took a look at the papers, they were from the local police department. It looks like our new friend has been doing some freelancing. This one said something about getting payments for a therapist set up, it was signed off by some detective named Shaun Morris. The address for the station was part of the header on each page.

Looks like I know where my next stop is.

 _Showing up to someone's work is one thing, stalking them to a police station is something else completely._

 **I'm not stalking, I'm following up on a lead. Besides, you saw the guy. He's seen some shit, he knows way more than that article lets on. We both know you don't spend a night in hell and not learn something while you're there.**

 _If I've learned anything it's that I shouldn't even bother with these conversations, yet here I am._

I stepped out of the office building. Blake was nowhere to be seen.

 _Besides, if you're so intent on using him for information I wouldn't be so keen on getting close to him. You're not exactly the best person when it comes to self control._

I went back to the blind guy act, walking with my cane sweeping the ground in front of me.

 **So you had to keep me from doing something stupid back there. What? Do you want a medal or something?**

 _Just saying, you have a habit of killing things._

 **I'm aware.**

I leaned against a building, I had gotten to a bus stop. I'd just offed some asshole who was on the way to break into his girlfriend's apartment last night. That didn't change the fact that I had known this Blake guy was sitting at his desk from the street outside the building. That didn't change the fact that the people around me had a dozen different emotions bubbling out of them. A whiff of annoyance here, a hint of worry there, a touch of stress hanging in the air, and a blanket of impatience covering the street. It was the same everywhere, any place with more than a handful of people tempted me more than I would ever admit.

 _How the mighty have fallen. You lasted two weeks after Balthophed, made it about a month at one murder a week. Started killing two every seven days, then three, and now someone dies by your hand every other night. Don't tell me you're going to slip into one a day._

 **I'm handling it. It's been scum bags and monsters all the way down.**

 _Judge, jury, and executioner, same as always._

The bus pulled up to the stop. I dug through a pocket for some change, apparently it was good enough because I took my seat without incident.

 **I'm sure that you wouldn't mind tearing through a retirement home, I've learned to ignore a guilt trip from you.**

 _So you say._

I knew vaguely where I was going, though finding the police station exactly was going to take a while. I guess that gave me time to get my story straight before I got there.

*** Blake's POV***

I'd got one angry phone call from Tony about leaving early, an apologetic call from Claire, and one worried call from Mitchell before I got home. I didn't answer any of them. Although I was trying my best to type out a text message on the small screen back to Mitchell when I walked into my house.

It was short and to the point:

I'm fine.

I set the few papers I had down on the counter, on a normal day I had an hour for lunch, getting to the police station to drop off the pictures would take a good thirty minutes. There was still enough coffee in the pot to fill up my thermos. I stuck the whole thing in the microwave before going to the laundry room to collect the dried pictures.

The glossy photos went into a manila folder. I checked for shadows in the blood on each one. I got lucky, none of the twisted shapes had made it into the final product. I had just finished scribbling the case number onto the folder when the microwave beeped.

I poured the rest of the coffee into my thermos and gave the pot a quick rinse in the sink. It was my lunch break, but after my little episode at work I didn't have the will to eat anything. Besides, if I found an appetite I could get tacos or something when I left the police station.

I scooped the folder from the counter and tucked it into a computer bag. With the bag hanging from a shoulder and my coffee in hand I made to leave the house. For the second time today, locking up the house was the longest part of leaving.

The police station wasn't too far, maybe a couple of miles. I missed the lunch rush and made it there in a little under ten minutes. The edge of the parking lot was empty, it didn't take long to pull into a spot. I slung the computer bag over my shoulder and made my way into the station.

The lobby was small compared to the rest of the building. I guess the police don't get too many people stopping in to just chat. I signed in with the officer at the front desk. I already had a picture on file so the whole thing took less than a minute.

The officer handed me a visitor's ID that I stuck to my shirt before walking deeper into the station. I went down a short hall and through a pair of heavy doors, a sea of cubicles and desks greeted me. Detective Morris's desk was against to wall to the left. The room was mostly empty and the few people that were there were chatting amongst themselves. A couple were talking about cases, but most were in the middle of idle break-time chit chat. I made my way to Morris's area without talking to anyone.

The detective wasn't at his desk, and the tables next to his were empty as well. They all must be out to lunch. I dug around my computer bag for the manilla envelope and a pen. I hastily wrote a short note onto it:

"You were out when I came by, here are the photos from the Four Rent Weekly crime scene"

I tooked for an empty place on the desk where I could put the envelope. I hadn't found one when I noticed someone familiar walking through the room. Warning bells went off in my mind at the sight of the tall and slightly ragged looking man. He stepped through the room like he had walked through it a thousand times before, no one payed him a second glance. While I was watching him come closer some of the photos slipped out of the envelope. I hadn't sealed it shut and had been holding it upside down by accident.

"Damn it," I muttered to myself. Whether I was talking about the pictures or the man, I'm not to sure.

Miles put his hand on a pile of pictures, I hastily scooped the rest of them off the table.

Wait a second, Blake. You're being ridiculous, he can't even see.

I kept collecting the photos anyways.

"I'm glad I caught up to you," he spoke from his place next to me.

I didn't say anything back. Why was he even here?

"Do you want an apology for earlier? I'm sorry, there. But really, I need to know what you know about Temple Gate."

Damn it, "I was supposed to apologize to you for acting so weird at the office- I mean." I huffed a bit "How did you even know I was there?"

"I did my homework" Miles leaned against the table.

"...and?" What was that supposed to mean. Was he stalking me? How did he even know that I would be at the police station? Should I tell detective Morris? Was he crazy and worshiping the cultists? I had run into one or two complete nut jobs who got way into conspiracies they'd read online.

"I told you, I've been looking into cults in the desert-"

Oh god, he was crazy then. A tide of blood rushed in my ears, my vision went just a little blurry around the edges.

"-and I found the article about Temple Gate online, I was going to ask the journalist who wrote it, but they were credited posthumously. Then I took a second to look at the staff page, you had the same last name and literally every other story on the site credited either both or neither of you. So, either this was the only time you weren't with Lynn or you had your name taken off the story." The way Miles spelled it out made it seem like the most obvious thing in the world, that I had been there.

That's still a lot of dedication to a story.

Ok, breath. Lynn had straight up broken into a guys house before, a little light stalking was just the nature of the game here.

"Fine. I was there. What do you want to know?" Doctor Benson always said talking about it was the best way to safely confront my fears. So here we go,

"Crazy people do crazy shit, were they trying to summon anything? Were they talking about spirits, or demons, or anything like that?"

A nervous laughter bubbled its way out of me "that is wierdly specific."

"Believe it or not it's become a recurring theme for me." The thin smile and little shrug said that there was supposed to be a hint of humor to the words, but it fell flat.

"The bastards we're a doomsday cult on steroids. They thought my wife… they thought Lynn…"

I had held my newborn daughter in the ruined remains of a church. The little bundle of cloth didn't cry in the silence left after Knoth slit his own throat. Lynns cooling corps sat unmoving above me. They said she would be the devil. They killed Lynn, I don't know how. But this impossible child had brought them down on her, they killed her. They killed for superstition and some damned legend.

I couldn't save Her.

Lynn. Our daughter. Jessica. I couldn't save them. I couldn't save them

"Hello? Earth to Blake?"

No, I wasn't there. I was still waiting for Morris to get back from lunch. Miles was still leaning against the desk.

"What - I, uhhh… They thought they were stopping the anti-christ, there was another group there that wanted to kick start the apocalypse though. Both thought… both thought my wife was pregnant with the devil." even I know how crazy that sounded.

Miles had pulled out a notepad from some pocket, "I hate to break it to you, but that fits the pattern I'm looking for."

He was scribbling notes down, I hadn't noticed that he was missing a finger on his right hand. How was he planning on reading that later?

"Pattern? No, there's nothing like Temple Gate, there can't be."

"Sorry Blake, murder cults are the new black for the season. What else did you see?" Miles seemed way too nonchalant about this whole thing.

"What do you mean what else?" I was still caught on there being more cults out there.

"There are a couple of recordings in the article, what else did you get on film?"

"...Things, cave dwelling mad men, rain made out of blood, a crazy bitch with a pick-ax, impossible flashes of light, enough mutilated bodies to fill a warehouse. What more do you want?"

Miles had stopped leaning against the table "could you find a way to send that to me? Maybe copy it onto a flashdrive?"

"Why do you want to see this shit? I get it you're working on a story, but somethings just need to be forgotten."

"Maybe, but this sure as hell isn't one of them."

Was he staring at me from behind the sunglasses? I couldn't see his eyes but I felt like a hole was being bored through me.

I put the pictures back on the desk. Detective Morris would find them when he got back from lunch, I didn't have all day to spend here and I desperately wanted to get Miles off my back.

"Fine, I have my laptop in the car. I'll email you the files." The sooner I can pretend the whole thing never happened, the better.

"Great." Miles moved to the side, as if expecting me to go out to the car and send him the footage right now.

You know what, fine. Anything to get this guy out of here.

I went back through the station, checking out at the front desk. Miles didn't speak to the officer at the front desk and they didn't acknowledge him.

My car wasn't far from the front door, my laptop was in its case in the back seat. It took all of five minuets to get connected to the wifi and have the files attached to an email.

"Where am I sending these to?"

"I can type the address myself." Miles picked the computer up with one hand and typed with the other.

How could he even see what he was typing?

"uhh…"

My question must have been obvious because Miles commented:

"Believe it or not, the little lines on the F and J keys actually have a purpose."

"But how are you even going to watch the videos? I mean-" shit, that was rude.

"...I have a friend for that. He doesn't really do the whole talking to people thing though. Honestly, he's kind of an ass. But hey, take what you get I suppose."

Great, there were two of them.

"Does your friend have a name?" if I was getting stalked I wanted to know the name of anyone else I might need to be looking out for.

"...Wallace. Don't worry about it, he never leaves the hotel."

I think I will worry about it, thank you.

"Right, good luck on your story. That's all the information I have. There's no reason to contact me again. Have a nice day."

I set my computer into the passenger seat and started the car.

At this rate I was going to be late getting back to work.


	6. Things Fall Apart

AN: happy Friday everyone, hope the week has treated you well. In the mean time please enjoy the chapter and thank you for reading:

***Miles's POV***

That man's hiding something.

I was still standing in the parking lot of the police station, I would have stayed there if a suspect number of black cars hadn't started pulling in shortly after Blake left. Looks like it's time to make myself scarce, I wandered back to the side walk.

I might have been half a block away but a bright string of tension called from the station. I was slipping around Blake; there was something impressively broken about him. Last time I'd seen anything like that it ended in a dead old woman, two somehow worsened childhoods, and a couple of dead monsters.

 **Hey, is there anyone using Blake for a joy ride in the real world?**

 _How should I know? I wasn't keeping an eye out for anyone._

 **Cut the crap, last time we saw something like that it was Balthophed. Besides, there was something about Temple Gate that I couldn't put my finger on.**

 _Well, you could just go check yourself. He was in and out of hallucinations the entire conversation. Demon or not we would destroy him if it came down to a fight._

 **No. No more collateral damage, I'm not playing that game any more.**

 _Remember the days when you would say we're not killing something and then a few minutes later you would slip and we would end up murdering everything in sight?_

 **Not this time, I'm on the strait and narrow. We're doing this right.**

 _Oh, wait. You don't have to remember because that's how it is now. That's how it's been since literally the minute you became my host._

I was a block away from the police station, there was something stormy gathering over it. There had been so many black vans, was it the feds? We're in a border state, was there something big going on?

I tried to shake the distraction from my head. Whatever it was, it was the police's problem. I had bigger things on my hands.

 **Hold your damn horses, we're on a strict diet of ass holes and monsters.**

 _You are what you eat._

 **I thought I was supposed to be the sarcastic one.**

 _I've learned a few things from you._

I continued walking, there had to be a library somewhere around here, I was down town.

 **I'm not going to break into someone's house for no reason, not yet at least. We're looking over the footage. If it looks like someone glued themselves to the inside of the poor bastards head, then we'll deal with it.**

 _And in the meantime?_

 **In the meantime we see if this anti-christ theory holds any water.**

***Blake's POV***

I was right, I had hell to pay when I got back to work. Luckily Boris had found Claire, the article went up in time, and Mitchell had tried to do some damage control with Tony before I got back. The rest of the day went off without a hitch.

Woo.

The drive back home was thankfully uneventful. Given the number of hallucinations I'd had today I half expected to come home to Marta in my living room, or to be run off the road by a hoard of heretics. Luckily, when I stepped into my living room the dim sunlight that drifted through the curtains only revealed my gray living room. I carried my bag of take out to the couch. The rag that covered the stain on the ground from yesterday could wait, I sat in my usual spot.

I considered grabbing my computer, but let it stay in its bag instead. Miles said that there were more places just like Tempe Gate all across the southwest. I couldn't watch the old images knowing that someone else might be crawling through the same hell. I'd dwelled on it too long. I needed to move on.

The outline of Lynn's photos glared at me through the shadows.

I couldn't save them. I couldn't save any of them. There was no point in trying, I was just one useless man.

I flipped on the TV.

Some mindless reality show greeted me, I wanted something that wouldn't leave me annoyed at the entire species so I turned it to the news. Please let there be something light hearted on. Please.

My own photos flashed across the screen.

Damn it!

The reporter was half way through a monologue:

"...in response the FBI has released an official statement,"

FBI? What were they doing here? The murder had been gruesome - sure. But, it was a local thing. Isolated. One of a kind.

A woman in a suit spoke from behind a podium.

"We have reason to believe that this is indeed the handy work of the Rainmakers," there was a pause for a flood of questions from the press below. The woman held up a hand and continued on when the noise faded, "that said, we are looking for a group. They probably hold some sort of pagan beliefs. The group will mostly be twenty to thirty years of age, but we suspect that they are lead by one elderly man. If you see…"

The rest of the speech was lost on me.

What. The. Fuck.

My hands twitched.

Holy shit, group with pagan beliefs complete with ritual killings. Fuck. Fuck, it was another cult. They were in Phoenix, shit. It was Temple Gate all over again. Oh my god.

The room blurred around me, my vision throbbed in time with my thundering pulse.

I tried to ignore it. I tried to let the whole fucking thing go and less than thirty seconds later I had a fucking pack of murderers loose in my town. I had been there, maybe seconds after they were at the murder scene. There was a crowd outside, what if they were still there when I was? Fuck, they saw me.

I was wrong, Temple Gate wasn't just in Temple gate, it was everywhere. I can't hide, there's nowhere to hide.

They're outside, I know they're outside. I can hear them trying to get in. The front door is rattling on it's hinges.

Shit! I forgot about the TV, I didn't check the windows, I ran to the laundry room and slammed the door shut behind me. A window shattered, they were in the house. I heard them breaking the pictures on the wall. Something clattered in the kitchen.

They screamed and howled, where was my phone? No, I couldn't call anyone, they would hear me. I shuffle around in the familiar dark room, a dirty cloths hamper sat in the corner, I crawled into it and pulled the lid shut. It was cramped in here. They wouldn't find me. They couldn't find me. Someone opened the door to the laundry room, it sniffed the ground and brushed against the dryer.

"You're not evil Blake, just confused."

Fuck that, nope. He wasn't here. No.

I cracked open an eye, the laundry hamper was gone. The inside of a locker greeted me instead.

I crushed my eyes shut again.

No. Not again, no…

A lone scream pierced the air.

Jessica? Cultists? Was it real? What was real? Where am I?

I huddled more and held my eyes closed.

Where am l?

***Miles POV***

I'd found the library about an hour before it closed. Like most it was nearly empty, I made my way to the computer furthest from the entrance, my blind guy act didn't hold up very well when random people saw me browsing the web.

 _If it really bothers you I could make it not be an act._

 **I'm well awair you like to cut off my vision when you're trying to prove a point.**

 _Well I do have a point to make right now, mostly that you're grasping at straws. The Wild Hunt is happening. A week away at the most, you're not about to be able to stop it._

 **But I can damned well try.**

My vision started going blurry on me when I took a seat.

 **Cute. Just humor me, if you're right about it being unstoppable you'll have your fun in the end.**

There was a pout of static, but I kept sight of the screen.

I opened the files from my email, there must have been a hundred clips and photos together. This was going to take forever.

 **Hey, one more favor real quick…**

 _You're impossible._

 **The faster I get done with my shenanigans, the faster you get to say I told you so.**

The details of each clip and document washed over me.

Let's see, death, blood, and guts. Check, check, and check. Over a dozen chapters of some imaginary book of the bible, standard cult shenanigans. Systematic child murder - a kids letter begging not to be murdered - note to self, that's bad. Footage of Blake not so slowly losing his grip on reality, boy have I been there. It was raining blood in another clip, a flock of birds and a school of fish died in a burst of light… definitely something wicked coming this way.

There was a tower in the distance of the lake footage, odd.

Way too many of the recordings were just static…

This document seemed out of place, what did it say?

"At halfway point between the towers and the subjects, and signal remains  
strong… had a curious anomaly in signal strength in the last quarter mile' it actually got  
stronger… it could be the mysterious feedback loop… mass capitulation enabling the  
driven believers to become projectors (Which would be yet another bet I lose, and a  
dinner I'd owe to Jenny Roland.)..."

I turned the computer off.

Jenny Roland. I knew that name. I killed her, along with everyone else on Murkoff R&D's payroll.

Murkoff. Where the fuck did they get off? Was this them too? The paper was dated september 2015, how long had they been working on this shit? Was this their fault too? Somehow, some-fucking-how they managed to fuck up this many people badly enough to rip a god damned hole in the world big enough to let who-the-hell-knows through.

There had been a biblical storm at the end of Blakes stay, what the fuck had that been?

I left the library, barely holding in the urge to rip a hole through the building.

Blake said anti-christ. What's his name - Knoth - was screaming about it. There was no one alive left to pay for it, I had gone too easy on them. Here I was doing fucking damage control. Again. God damn it!

I wandered down a side street. I didn't need to see anyone now. The sun had set and I felt better in the dark these days anyways.

"Let's make a body for the walrider, it eats nightmares and kills people for fun. Think of the profit" I muttered to myself. Fuck whoever green lit that idea, I hope they were one of the ones I killed after I got comfortable with the idea.

"Oh, I know. Let's do the same thing as the walrider but make three of them. And let's make it contagious too" I'm sure someone got a promotion out of that.

"Hey guys, thats cool. But hear me out, why don't we try to start the apocalypse?" I angrily mocked conversations that must have happened.

I don't know where I'm going, my feet are just moving through this alley way.

Son of a bitch! There was a demonic wild fire sweeping across the south west and if I had to put money on it the spark came from Temple Gate. Fuck! Markoff's involved, looks like the chances of Blake hosting some other worldly creature jumped to a hundred percent.

Damn it! Even from the other side of the grave the pieces of shit we're dragging us all to hell. I wish I could have done half the things I can do now, they deserved-!

"Hey! Stevie Wonder, get the fuck out of here!"

I took half a second to look at my surroundings. There were a handful of people, a couple had pistols tucked into their waist bands.

 **You could have told me I was walking up on a drug deal.**

 _And ruin the show?_

"Are you blind and deaf or just stupid? Walk away."

A wave of bravado and anger rolled off the guy. A tension grew in the air, how much was from the deal and how much was from my walking up I didn't care.

"Piss off kid, I'm not in the mood." I made to keep walking.

"Excuse me?" the guy in my face looked over his shoulder to his friends, "You guys hearing this shit?"

The person furthest away fingered the gun at his side, "Yo, Johnny, don't tell me you're scared of some blind asshole."

"Bitch, I ain't scared"

True, he wasn't. Pissed off maybe, but not scared.

I was in the middle of the group now, this wasn't my goddamn problem.

"Prove it then." the farthest guy spoke again.

Johnny stood out like a beacon, waves of hot anger rolling off of him. I ducked my head down, there were six of them. Four were armed, hand guns, pocket knives. One was high, not a threat. The chatty asshole held most of the power here, Johnny had something to prove.

I walked on. They were pieces of shit, but I'd already killed someone a few blocks from here last night. I wasn't slipping into a death a day.

The chatty asshole stepped into my path just before I got passed the group.

"If you got something to say you can say it to my face." He spat a little with each word.

The gun was at his right, a blow to the knee and he'd be on the ground.

"I've had a long-ass day. Move." I wasn't dealing with this shit right now.

"Look as this asshole, thinks he's fucking Dare Devil or some shit." chatty kathy made a grab for my cane. I let him have it.

 _You're being awfully patient._

"Not now ghost," two of the men closed in behind me.

"The fuck did you just say to me? Know what, never mind. Give me your wallet, we can forget you were ever here."

Fuck this guy, fuck those guys, fuck all of this. I dug through my pocket for the shitty excuse for a wallet that I kept. Chatty kathy grabbed it from my hand.

 _Playing nice today are we? I'm surprised._

"Damn, there's just a five in here. What else you got?"

Anger, glee, five people ready to rip into someone they didn't even know just because they could. These people were less human that I was.

"I said, what else you got?"

Not enough self control to put up with this bull shit.

"I like your glasses. Give them to me."

I stood my ground. I'd be doing a service killing these guys, how many other shake downs had they been behind? I was out doing something good for once, a little slip to wipe some scum of the street wouldn't be all that bad. Hell, I needed to be at full strength if I was going to be fighting whatever was riding around in Blakes skull.

 _And here I was, thinking that you might actually have some self control._

"Johnny, give me his glasses."

Johnny walked around me. The piece of shit slapped me and took the glasses with him.

I didn't move, I stared back at him through the dark alley. There was a split second where the two men got a look at my face,

"The hell-!"

I swung a heavy fist at Johnny.

"Shit!" chatty kathy pulled his gun.

He wasn't fast enough with it, a cloud of swarm wrapped around his arm and peeled back slivers of muscle until it met bone.

The scream was inhuman and twisted in agony. I drank it in and spun to meet the other four men. Johnny ripped at my hand that held him by the throat. The unarmed man ran for the other side of the alley. I let the swarm fan out and cut the other men off from escape.

The pompous anger in the air evaporated like mist in the morning sun, tides of shock and terror replaced it. Idiots.

Johnnies neck popped, crushed slivers of trachea dripped from between my fingers, I tossed his still flailing body into the crowd. The boy choked on fleshy strands of his own body while he tried to crawl away. The swarm closed in, two men danced in darkness, their bodies fading into nothing. One of the remaining men shot me. The bullet landed in my shoulder, I was on top of him before he got the chance to fire again. He struggled on the ground, painted in bright streaks of desperation. I looked deep into his eyes and watch a pained and wasted childhood whether the man's soul into nothing more than a dried husk of what it could have been. The screams tearing their way from his chest became distant and forced, thick steaming blood seeped from his eyes.

Four dead. One wounded. One uninjured.

One was in a dumpster, I ripped it apart at the seams

"Oh God! No! Shit! Oh God! Oh God!" Tendrils of swarm stabbed into him and curled around bones. The man was lifted from the ground and pulled in a hundred directions at once. I turned away from him and reigned in the swarm ever so slightly. The walls it left behind were painted in sticky fluids and globs of flesh. The chatty bastard crawled over the ground, sans arm.

I looked down at him as he pathetically tried to crawl away.

I planted a boot on his back. The man in the air howled in pain, I let the agony wash over me, like a refreshing drink under a blazing sun.

"Fuck!" The man on the ground clutched the nub that started at his elbow.

I said nothing while the swarm burst from the man in the air. He had passed out from the pain, there was no use in keeping a useless sack of flesh in the air. His remains showered the ground in a fine mist.

I wasn't even hungry anymore, but the wretch on the floor was too tempting.

"What the fuck are you?" he spoke between choked sobs and gasps for breath.

I didn't say anything, what was there to say? I was just enjoying the moment. Little bits of swarm stabbed here and there, the man's shirt was slowly dieing itself red. I'm not really sure how long I was there, but the shit stain on the street bled out eventually. After the pleasant trickle of fear dried up I called it a day for the alley way. A quick brush of swarm wiped the man's body away.

 _I hope you feel better now._

I looked at the dripping side street.

 **Not really.**

Little bits of swarm pulled the blood stains from my cloths, I dug for my glove in the grime. My sunglasses weren't hard to get to, the cane was also a breeze to find. I reset my fake arm.

This place was a mess.

 _Hmmm, the splatter only made it to the third floor this time, you're losing your touch._

 **Good to know you're keeping score.**

I'd gone and fucked up now. Scribbling a few supernatural keep out signs was the least I could do, I didn't want anything crawling up through the carnage I left behind me. Using remaining pieces of swarm I scooped up bits of blood and bile then painted a few symbols onto the wall.

Some poor bastard was probably trying to read way too far into this. Shit, if anyone was out of the loop it probably looked like I was bringing the apocalypse down all by myself.

The alley was properly painted, I took a quick glance over my shoulder to check for witnesses, I saw no one and called that close enough.

Six more dead by my hand, it was fine though. They were thugs, predators in their own right. No one would miss them, it was better this way. I was helping.

I was helping.


	7. Aftermath

AN: And so another week begins, please enjoy the chapter and have a nice day:

***Blake's POV***

Something buzzed and cast a bright light into my tiny hiding spot. I blinked away my confusion and dug through my pockets. The screen of my phone was almost too bright to read, I managed to answer it with my slow hands.

"Hello?" I groaned more than actually spoke.

"Blake? This is detective Morris. I'm sorry for calling so late, but we're in need of your services."

I was coming to a little bit more with each passing second. The walls around me creaked and cracked with each movement. Where was I? I pushed against the ceiling, it gave way to reveal the laundry room.

Oh. Right. My laundry room.

"Um, sure. Where at, what time is it?" I uncurled myself from the cramped hiding spot.

The room was pitch black aside from the little bit of light that came from my phone and squeezed past my cheek. The door to the kitchen was firmly shut.

"I'm at 51st and Pasadena avenue, it's eleven. Were you asleep?"

I walked into the rest of the house. Nothing was out of place, not that I could see that far – the only light was that flashing from the abandoned TV.

"No, I… I just dozed off watching TV. It's fine, I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Ok, please hurry."

The phone screen went black, I tucked it back into a pocket.

The house was fine, there was no one in here. I just had an episode when I heard the news report.

I grabbed my duffle bag.

There was no one after me, it was just a coincidence. Nobody was trying to break into my house, the FBI was just here for a routine investigation. They did it all the time, this wasn't about you.

I locked the door behind me.

There is no one outside. It's okay, you're going to photograph a crime scene just like normal. There will be people there, no one will do anything crazy.

I slumped into the driver's seat of the car.

It's fine. The police will handle this. There was no retribution for trying to forget about Temple Gate, this wasn't related. It wasn't my fault.

The suburb streets started giving way to city.

I had even run into someone looking into cults earlier, see this wasn't related to Temple Gate at all. It was something completely separate. It was fine.

Then why had Miles tracked down where I worked and then followed me to the police station? It wasn't safe there, it wasn't safe anywhere. The police couldn't protect me, no one could help anyone. Everything-

No. You stop that, everything is fine.

My knuckles had gone white from gripping the steering wheel. I hadn't even noticed.

Red and blue lights filled the street, I pulled my car to the side. This is the right place, unfortunately. I dug through my duffle bag for my ID, I had learned my lesson last time. While I searched for the little plastic bit of identification I took stock of the street.

A side alley was tapped off, I couldn't see down it from this angle but the corner of building that was visible shined with a glistening red that couldn't have been purely from the flashing police lights. A couple of suited people walked this way and that, a black SUV sat in the middle of the cruisers.

They were looking for a group, ages ranging from twenties to early thirties….

I clipped my ID to my jacket and got out of the car. There was no crowd gathered this time. Everything was fine. I would be fine. This was awful but it wasn't Temple Gate, nothing could be that bad.

I came to the squad cars, no one said anything as I made my way over to detective Morris.

He was talking to two of the suits when I came into earshot.

"Look guys, I'm sure you know what you're doing, but I'm just not sure we should be calling this a serial killing just yet." Morris spoke with his back to me.

A woman with blond-red hair spoke next, "Detective, I understand that you don't want to think about there being a gang of murderers in your town, but we have to face the facts and-"

She stopped when she noticed me walking up

"Who's that?" she asked.

"Agents Sorenson, Lopez," Morris gestured towards the woman and then the man next to her "this is our civilian consultant, Blake Langermann, he does photography."

The man – agent Lopez – held out his hand for a handshake, I returned the gesture with a weak grip.

"Langermann, eh? Hey Sorenson, wasn't that name in one of our case files?"

"Agent Lopez! That's hardly something to bring up now." Sorenson chided her partner.

"Oh, don't worry about it. What was it, the Temple Gate file? Yeah, that was it. Don't worry about it Blake, that file's closed. It was way too early in the timeline to be a Rainmaker case."

I didn't feel better. Why was my name in the system? Why bring it up? What was the point of that?

"It's fine, I'm glad that you remember your cases so well." I lied and tried to find a compliment in there somewhere.

"See, he's fine with it." Agent Lopez spoke to Sorenson.

Detective Morris coughed in that way that was really a request for attention. "Agents," he gestured towards the scene.

Sorenson gave a side eyed glare at Lopez before following the detective.

The three walked away, leaving me to take pictures of the scene. I was thankful for the distraction, but the sight made me sick to my stomach. They were here, people just as mad as the ones in the desert had come to my town. This wasn't a distant threat to be remembered in bad dreams anymore, it was real and right here.

The shutter of my camera clicked shut. The wall was red. The floor was red. I took pictures of the carnage. More pagan symbols were on the wall. I recognized one from the last murder scene. Three loops that ended in a point over lapped each other and sat over a circle. What did it mean? What were these people thinking?

I tried my best not to leave prints in the sticky fluids that had pooled here and there. A dumpster had been ripped apart at the seams. How did they manage that? The thing was made of sheet metal and bolted together.

How had Marta been so supernaturally tall and strong? Did madness just drive people to do impossible things?

I shook the thought from my mind. I had a job to do.

The camera shutter slid open and shut over a dozen different images. There were footprints that started in the middle of the scene.

Click.

The single set continued down the alley, only to disappear a foot or two after the blood stopped.

Had they cleaned their shoes? There was no water around there, no one had found dirtied rags.

"Mister Langermann" someone called for me, I heard them picking their way through the sticky ground.

I turned around to find agent Sorenson

"Yes?" What now?

"I just wanted to apologize for my partner, he's new to the field."

Ah, so that was it.

"It's fine." No it wasn't

"I'm glad you think so, do you think you could make an extra copy of the photos? I'll need them for my report."

"Sure." I better not have my name attached to anything having to do with this case. Crazy people do crazy things, I don't want to end up on anyone's hit list.

"Thank you. One more thing mister Langermann, could you also make some copies of the last crime scenes photos?"

"No problem."

I hope the negatives stand up to another use, they were already a little foggy.

The agent walked away, I got a shot of the blood spatter. I must have gone up to the third floor. How?

While I stood there wondering occasional beads would drip from the pipes above and splatter against the street. I got everything I was going to get. I went back to the entrance of the alley to talk to Morris before I left.

"Did you get everything?" he asked me after sending a uniformed officer off to some other corner of the alley.

"As much as I could… did the FBI say anything?" they said cult, but there was only one set of prints.

"Lopez likes to talk, but it hasn't been anything important." Morris kept an eye on the dark haired agent while he spoke, "How are you holding up Blake? I know you have an… issue with cults."

He caught me off guard "I… I don't feel great, I'm going to be honest."

"I understand. You've been doing good work, it's okay if you take a couple of days to get these pictures back to me."

Oh no, I'd already tried burying my head in the sand. Pretending everything was okay wasn't cutting it, not anymore. It didn't work with Jessica and it wasn't working with Lynn. I couldn't do a damned thing to save anyone or stop anything, but I could sure as hell be there to pick up the pieces. It was the least I could do.

"No, no I can get these to you tomorrow. You have work to do, don't slow down for my sake."

Morris looked away from the alley for a moment, "thank you Blake, now go home, it's been a long day."

My wrist watch said that it was past midnight, he was right.

I set the camera in the duffle bag, then put the whole thing into the passenger seat. The road was thick with police cruisers, it took more maneuvering than I would like to admit to get back to a main street. At least at this time of night there wasn't too much traffic. I passed a few trendy nightclubs, it was friday and the crowds would be growing through the night.

Where were the cultists? There had to be ten thousand people partying the night away, and a handful of murderers were in there with them.

I clicked on the radio for a distraction.

I better not wake up to another phone call.

The lights of the city were still bright behind me when I pulled into my suburb. I killed the engine and pulled my duffle from the seat besides me. I needed a shower and the closest thing I would get to a good night's rest. Tomorrow was saturday; I didn't need to be at the office so I could spend all morning working on Morris's and Sorenson's photos.

The living room was dark with the night. I let my bag slump to the ground by the front door while I set the dead bolts back into place. As much as I didn't want the pictures to look at me I needed to see, so I clicked on the kitchen light.

My house was a mess.

The TV had been toppled from its stand, half the pictures had been flung from their places on the wall. My couch sat against the far wall, the door to the bedroom swung wide on its hinges.

Oh my god, they were in my house!

I jumped for the door to the laundry room. It was safe, it would be safe.

The heavy door flew open. It was dark in there. Too dark. The light from the kitchen didn't cut through the moving shadows. A sound like a slaughterhouse filled the room, grinding noises of metal on metal chased me from the room.

"Shit!"

The kitchen light burst and rained sporks onto the ground. I scrambled over the counter in the dark.

I had to get out. Run! Run!

Fumbling fingers worked at the locks on the door.

I was too slow, something hot and impossibly fast lashed out from the dark. I crawled over the ground, my glasses fell and went clattering off somewhere unseen. Shit. Shit!

A hundred hot thorns dug into my sides. Oh god, I was back in the mines, they were everywhere, they were screaming. Why was there grinding metal? What was going on!

I twisted onto my back. I wasn't in the mines, this was my living room. That thing was there. Something was there. I couldn't see, the world was a black blur. The thing in the dark landed heavy on my chest. It was hot and weighed an impossible amount.

The sound of grinding metal grew in the air. Two rings of light watched from the hazy shadows.

"Get off me!"

I was screaming, the bright rings hung in the suffocating air.

"Let go! Go away!" I yelled, screamed. I closed my eyes.

This wasn't real. None of it was real. It was a hallucination, just like every other time. I was at home. I was safe.

I tried to take a breath, I opened my eyes.

It was Temple Gate.

No. No.

The ground was hot and wet, I'd sunk an inch or two before scrambling to my feet.

I'd seen way too many hallucinations. I'd had too many bad dreams. I'd seen too much shit.

I'd never seen this place.


	8. It Happened Like This

AN: Hello once again, I just want to gave a quick thanks for reading. Also, if you're feeling charitable maybe leave a comment. Above all else though please enjoy the chapter:

***Blake's POV***

My foot sunk into the hot soft ground. I didn't take long to look around, the sound of grinding metal hung in the air. I ran without taking the time to find the source of the noise, it could only be from some new terror. There was a building to my left. I had to get out of the open. I had to get away from that sound.

It was a house. It looked familiar, but the wood was blackened and cracked from the heat of long ago faded flames. I gave a quick glance over my shoulder, a rash of static joined the noise of grinding metal. I didn't stall for much longer before looking for somewhere to hide.

The door swung open, I slipped inside and tried to close it silently behind me. I had gone through a door but I was still outside. There was a forest painted in tones of lime green and black, if I didn't know any better I would have thought I was looking through a camera with night vision. I tried to turn around, the door and the wall that it had been part of were gone - replaced by more trees that shook in a warm breeze.

The sounds of static and metal were gone, leaving a silence that was nearly loud enough to hear. I took a couple of steps. There was water on the ground, it seeped into my shoes as I walked.

I had seen this place before. I knew it. A twig snapped somewhere out of sight. The muscles in my legs jumped at it and I found myself running down the creek bed. Where was I going? I don't know. Anywhere but here.

"Blake? Hello I-" That voice. It was Lynns.

She was calling my name and screaming. I ran faster. Another twig snapped. Had I done that? Who was out here?

The screaming was growing distant. I had to find her. I had to get there in time.

Water stopped splashing around my feet. The ground was solid and covered in a layer of pine needles that quitted my steps. The twigs were still snapping.

"Help!" Lynn again.

Where was she? I ran into a clearing. The snapping twigs stopped at the same time the lime green tint to the world was cut away and replaced by a dusty and tired moonlight.

There were people in the clearing, they stood under a ragged cross that held a squirming and bleeding body.

The people turned to face me. Their faces were cracked and wept infected pus. Some were missing skin and flesh, their gray and jagged teeth exposed to the nighttime air. I didn't take the time to look up at the cross, I didn't want to imagine who they had strung up as a sacrifice this time. I bolted back into the tree line. The lime green lights didn't come back on but the crashing of clublike feet through the undergrowth spurred me on through the dark.

More screaming filled the air. Lynns might have been among the noise, but I couldn't hear here voice clearly. My breath started to grow raged, how long had I been running? I could barely see and the hoard of heavy steps was getting closer.

I narrowly avoided hitting a tree.

I didn't have enough time to recover from my haphazard dodging when the pine needle covered ground turned to loose dirt and gravel. What had been flat ground gave way to a steep slope, there was no way to stop now.

My ankle twisted and I tumbled head over heels across the dirt. It became steeper, occasionally I would catch glimpses of corps like men and women tumbling from the tree line and falling after me.

A handful of some stinking and rotting liquid splattered against a rock and across my face. The broken body it had come from didn't have time to catch up to me before I tumbled over the edge of a stony cliff.

By back hit tile floor and I was left at the foot of a locker, it's door creaked on its hinges slightly at the commotion.

I didn't take the time to wonder how I had gotten here before scrambling to my feet. The main hall of my old elementary was the only thing around me. The horde of rotting cultists had vanished along with the wilderness I had just been running through.

Where do I go now?

A scream jolted through the air from my right.

"Jessica?"

I went after the noise. I had to try to save them. At least one of them. I rounded a corner, the screaming cut off. Not a single trace of it hung in the air.

Where the hell do I go now? I took a couple of steps to slow down to walking. I was in a rear hall now. Only a fraction of the fluorescent bulbs were on, no light shined around the corner that I walked towards. The building creaked, the lights above me shivered and shut off. The only source of light came from behind me and left my long shadow stretching down the hall.

The dark curled around the boarder of light from the last bul stopped. Shadows weren't supposed to move.

I glanced up to catch two tiny pinpoints of light staring back at me through the shadows.

Run.

I twisted around only to hit something cold. I staggered to catch my balance. She was in front of me, hanging by the neck. She was all over the hall. A forest of dangling limbs and limp bodies had grown behind me. The distant light barely found a path through the dead Jessicas. I had to run. It was too late. I was always too late. The cold corpses swayed and knocked into each other as I passed them. My hands ached at the old memory of a rope burn.

I had to leave. I had to get out.

The cold bodies bashed against the lockers somewhere behind me. There was another thing in here. There was always some monster out there just out of sight. They were always there.

A classroom door sat illuminated under the only remaining light in the hall. I rushed through it; there had to be somewhere to hide in here.

I took one step into the darkened room before slipping on slick mud.

The school had disappeared, though this time to door I walked through still hung open behind me. I could see her body swinging in the thin light. That thing was still in there. I was back where I had started, the ground seeped and sagged under my feet. I made off with a wobbling run.

The air was hot and stung with every breath. I ducked around a corner and doubled over to catch my breath. For a split second the only sound was that of blood rushing in my ears then a rash of static grew from somewhere out of view. I gulped down a last bit of air. How did I et out? How did I even get here?

A gate leading to the backyard of one of the houses swayed slightly on its hinges. I ran for it and quickly slammed it shut behind me. Was there anywhere to hide in here? The static came closer with each passing second, a window was cracked open slightly. I shoved the glass pane up and crawled inside the charred building.

My feet only hit the ground that was made of dusty wood and bathed in pale moon light.

"Blake?"

I nearly tripped over a church pew that had been tossed to the side. The air whipped through the broken building and a sky that swirled with storms flowed above me.

"Blake!"

Not again.

It was Lynn. I ran to a familiar stained table on the far side of the room. There was no ragged body resting on the grimy wood. Instead occasional beads of stinking black tar dripped onto the table.

Don't look up.

I looked up.

She was there. Her lower half was caked in the same tar that dripped to the ground. It flowed up her arms and down her legs until branching out and clinging to the walls and remaining ceiling beams like a liquid spider web.

"It hurts…"

I staggered back. Some of the inky sludge dripped to the ground. An infant's cries sounded off each time a thick blob splattered against the table. I know what I saw. I had never seen this.

Lynn whimpered, her voice hoarse from a night of screaming, "...Blake?"

I kept walking back. No, no it didn't happen like this.

"Help me…"

I couldn't. I never could.

The dark tar twisted into throbbing purple-red fibres. They grew like fleshy roots over the wall and ground.

It didn't happen like this.

There were no more words, just a choked screaming. The tar gave way and Jessica swung from the ceiling. Purple tendrils snaked around her neck as she swung from the top of the gymnasium. There were hundreds of them, each one with rope growing around thier necks.

It didn't happen like this.

A door crashed open from somewhere behind me. I set off running once again.

It didn't happen like this!

***Mile's POV***

In hindsight, Blake was lucky as hell that I had just eaten before coming over here. I had stopped pulling the strings three scene changes ago, the tattered school I stood in was all of Blake's making.

I watched the poor bastard sprint down a hall, some creature with a mangled body of twisted limbs stumbled past me. As hideous as the thing was it was nothing special. Fucked up, sure, but it felt like nothing more than a familiar memory.

I took a couple of steps back through the shadowed hall until I found myself in an equally dark living room. Terror and confusion swirled over Blake, a tide of guilt washed over the room. I stood up and took a few stepps away from the hallucinating man. Guilt soaked the ground, it seeped from the walls and dripped from the ceiling. I thought that this place had become a den for some creature that fed on guilt, or at least created it.

Nope. It was just one miserable man.

If I weren't so worried I'd be impressed.

 _Back to faking a conscious again?_

"Lay off, would you? We just murdered an alley, you had your fun for the day. Besides we were here to murder a monster, it turns out there's nothing here that matches that description. You get to tell me I was wrong and no one else has to die tonight, win win."

 _I'm not sure, putting that man out of his misery might be a mercy. That's something that you'd be interested in, right?_

"The attempt at baiting me is cute, but sad. Actually, it's just sad. Maybe a little pathetic too."

 _Me? Pathetic? There's a saying for that, don't throw stones in glass houses._

I pulled the couched back into its normal position. The least I could do was clean up my mess.

"I think you're looking for 'the pot calling the kettle black'" I talked back while trying me best to replace the fallen pictures on the wall.

 _Than you admit that I'm right._

"Nope, I'm just not about to let you go misusing idioms like that."

The woman in the frames was the same one that I'd seen strung up and cut open. The faces in the photos smiled back at me. I looked at the lump on the ground, he'd broken out in a cold sweat.

The world was a cold place.

I shivered in the warm living room, the guilt in the air had gathered into a mist on the ground. It would be a mercy…

"Stop that" I told myself before shaking my head and moving back to the pictures.

"Hey," I spoke to the walrider, "I missed something while I was in there, after the church part, the memory started to get hard to follow. Go see what was up with that, there was something there. Well, a memory of something."

 _And leave you in charge?_

"Oh, just go. I can keep it together for the five seconds it'll take you to get in and get out."

 _I'll make sure to take six seconds then._

I clenched a fist in annoyance. A small shadow snaked its way from me and traced through the growing fog on the ground, not that I could see any of it. The physical world had gone black, but ghostly streaks of gray grief and blue regret painted the scene. I buckled against the wall.

Don't move.

There was a shuffling.

Don't do it.

The movement started getting frantic.

You're not going to-

"What the fuck!?"

My head snapped up. Outlined in bright fear and shaded in dull despair, Blake was on his feat. He ran for the door. Not fast enough. I dug a hand into his shoulder.

"Shit!" he crumbled to the ground, I went down on top of him.

He swore from underneath me, the night cloaked room drifted from being colored in ghostly hues to being something real.

 _Five seconds you say._

"You piece of shit" I swore at the walrider.

"What?" Blake asked the carpet.

 **I told you to get information, not wake him up.**

 _You told me to get information. You didn't tell me not to wake him up._

 **We will talk about this later.**

Blake struggled from underneath me, I had nearly dislocated his shoulder. There would be a nasty bruise on his hip in the morning too.

"Get up." I lifted myself off of him and pulled him to standing.

He struggled and threatened to run again. I didn't need this to get any more out of hand, I kept a tight grip on his arm.

"What are you doing in my house? This can't be real. I'm seeing things. This isn't real." He mostly muttered that last part to himself.

"Sorry for the brake in there Blake. Just calm down." He had his eyes shut and it sounded like he was trying to keep his breath steady.

"If I let you go, are you going to try to run?"

There was a panicked exhale "Yes."

His eyes were still shut.

Figures.

"Well, if we're going to play it that way." I walked him a little less gently than I should have to the couch. He landed with a thud on the cushions.

"Blake, you're acting childish. Look at me."

 _Because you're always so adult._

 **Not now.**

"You're not here… there is nothing here. I'm home. I'm safe." Blake spoke to himself on the couch.

There was a small pause while the man composed himself on the sofa. I pulled the swarm in from the room and reset my false arm in the meantime.

I had barely gotten done when Blake finally looked up at me.

His eyes might as well have been the size of dinner plates.


	9. Friends Don't Use Friends

AN: Happy Friday everyone, hope the week has treated you well. In the mean time please enjoy the chapter and have a nice weekend.

***Blake's POV***

Holy shit there was a demon in my living room. I blinked a few times, the thing didn't move. Where were my glasses? I fidgeted a bit, only to find them tucked into my shirt pocket. When had I put them there? Oh well, it didn't matter.

I slid the battered frames over my eyes.

Nope there was still something way too tall and way too pale standing in front of me.

I opened my mouth to choke out a few words, it looked down at me with glowing eyes. My vision throbbed and the shadows in the room swirled.

"Leave," the word was weaker than I wanted it to be.

"You have no idea how much I'd love to get gone right about now." did it sound familiar? Had I heard that voice? Why did these things always have to be so familiar?

"But," it went on, the dark closing tighter around it "I've got a few questions. Yesterday you said you gave me everything you had about Temple Gate. You lied to me Blake,"

"Yesterday?" a few pieces of the puzzle were sliding into place. I was still seeing things, hearing things, but the only person I talked to about Temple Gate was… "Miles? What the hell are you doing in my house?"

I looked at the man waiting for the layer of hallucination to fade away.

"Look, I'll get out of your hair real quick, just tell me what happened at Temple Gate. There was a recording where you were talking about someone growing up to do what they were born to do. You remembered a baby being born, some fat bastard was telling you she was the devil. Any of this ringing a bell?"

Yes it was. How did he know about any of that? I didn't get Knoths suicide on film.

"How..? Get out of my house!" I tried to get up from the couch, Miles pushed me back down with a vice like grip. His face was close, the skin waxy and sunken in around blackened eyes. Glowing irises in a sea of shadow took up most of what I could see.

Damn this was a stubborn hallucination.

"I need to know Blake. What happened to the kid?" his voice had dropped in tone, the volume was barely above a whisper.

"I don't know! Ok? I...I know what I saw, but no one else said anything about her. Ok? Go find a state trooper if you need to know more, I'm sure there's a huge report on it. Hell, the FBI's in town, I'm sure they would be more than happy to chat about it."

He backed off a bit "what?"

"Yea, you came up to me talking about cults. Hell, you broke into my house over them. Don't tell me you haven't heard about the FBI's Rainmakers? Seems like they're right up your alley."

"Rain… damnit." Miles was standing now, through the illusion around his eyes still held strong "we can deal with it later, let's focus on this now." he said to himself.

Of course he was just as crazy as I was.

"I don't know what you want from me" I wanted him to get the hell out of my house. At this point I was half ready to just not call the police about it. What were they going to do anyway? Make a report about it and then file it away where it'll never be seen again?

"I need to know what happened to the kid at the end."

"I do too. No one tells me anything, last thing I knew I was walking through the ruined town, the whole sky exploded, and when I woke up the place was crawling with state troopers, my daughter was nowhere to be found." They told me I imagined it. They told me she was never there. I knew what I saw, Miles knew about it too. How?

"And you believed them?" he stepped back from the couch, "you haven't been out there looking? You just tucked your tail in and ran?"

I didn't need you beating me up about it, I already did that to myself "So what if I did? It's none of your business. Running away is all that I'm good for anyway."

There I went again, wallowing in self-pity. Pathetic.

Miles went rigid. Yeah sure, go ahead and judge. Everyone does.

"Fuck it, looks like I'm being direct." He shook his head slightly, as if trying to make sense of everything, "There was something in Temple Gate, the cultists were bug-fuck insane, but the apocalypse is happening. That baby might actually be the anti-christ, or something close enough. I need to know what you know or literally everyone is going to die."

This might be the first time anyone's believed me about my daughter, but more importantly, "oh shit, you're actually insane." I should probably be running. Or hiding. Probably both, but I was done. My limbs felt heavy and I just wanted to rest. I'd had enough of everything, the visions, the nightmares, hell Miles still looked like a demon with glowing eyes. I just wanted it to be over. The pictures were back on the walls, I could see their hanging frames and feel Lynn's heavy gaze.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't save you.

"You can't just give up like that." Miles said from somewhere above me.

"Why the hell not? You don't know half the shit I've been through, you don't know what it's like to fail like I did. You haven't had someone killed in front of you for some bullshit reason that you never could have-" something burning hot wrapped around my neck and grated against my skin. Miles stood on the other side of the room.

"I don't want to hurt you. But don't think that I haven't seen some shit."

I tried to grab whatever it was that wrapped around my neck, my hands met stinging but empty air.

"I get it. I really do, you just want to forget everything that happened. You want to pretend that you could have saved your grade school friend. You want to think that Lynn could have made it out of Temple Gate. You want to act like the night never happened and that none of it mattered. You want to forget, but you can't."

He walked back to the couch and loomed over me.

"Like it or not you owe it to yourself, to Lynn, to Jessica, and to everyone else to do something."

"Like what?" the pressure on my neck had lessened up slightly.

"Like stop what started at Temple Gate. Lynn thought there was something going on, she was right. You were more than ready to follow along, now it's up to you to finish it. You're not going to just let her have died for nothing. Are you?"

The stinging thing around my neck was gone, Miles still towered above me. The heavy gaze of the photos pushed me deeper into the couch than they ever had before. I'd tried to hide, I'd tried to act like everything's okay. That had never worked, it never would.

Was this a chance to make things right?

Miles was talking nonsense. Muttering about more cults and talking to himself. Was this my one last chance to try to save someone? I'd never been good at it. I'd never been good at anything but doing what other people told me to.

Now I had someone telling me to try.

Fuck it. I wasn't doing anything here except for burying my head in the sand and slowly rotting away.

"Fine."

***Miles's POV***

I didn't think any of that was going to work.

I went back to my place against the wall, watching Blake sit in his spot on the couch. The little bit of swarm that had been wrapped around his neck came back to me. He was remarkably calm about having the walrider thrashing this ways and that in his living room.

 _He probably just thinks he's imagining it_. We did do a number on him.

 **For once I don't think it was just us who's ringing the poor guys bell.**

"Good. First things first, Knoth and his followers were crying anti-chirst, Val and the others thought the same. Could any of them have survived? Maybe they did something with the kid?"

Blake rubbed the bridge of his nose under the glasses, "I don't think anyone walked out of there besides me. They were in a mine that collapsed, Knoth said he killed all of his followers. I- I know they were talking about the apocalypse, but that's not possible."

"You said it yourself: You know what you saw and what you saw is close enough to the end times for me."

"I know what I saw, but I know what I saw was impossible."

"You're going to have to learn to get passed that." I left my spot on the wall and crossed the room. I'd gotten in through a window and hadn't locked it behind me. I needed something to do to distract myself from the self-pity that rolled off Blake in waves.

"What are you doing?" the man of the hour asked from the couch.

"Locking the window" obviously.

"It's already locked."

"It was, it's not anymore"

"That's impossible, I keep all my windows locked."

"There you go using the "I" word again. I unlocked this one to get in."

"How? It was locked."

"Magic."

There was a heavy sigh before I heard Blake stand from the couch. He walked to the kitchen, the light switch clicked but the bulb had burst.

"Sorry about that." I said as I turned around.

"Do I even want to know why you took the bulb out of its socket?"

That's not what happened at all but ok.

"Um…"

"Never mind, it doesn't matter." the refrigerator door opened, a line of bright light cut into the dark room.

I turned my face away from the sudden stinging light. Blake turned around holding a can of soda. Well if he hadn't gotten a look at my face he had now.

The revelation seemed lost on him, he stood unmoving and just looking at me.

"Still seeing all sorts of weird shit…" he quietly told himself before speaking up "I'm going to bed. You go… just get out of my house. I'm going to sleep, I'll talk in the morning."

He replaced the soda in the fridge and shut the door without ceremony.

There wasn't even a second glance over his shoulder before he shut himself into a back room.

I stood alone in the dark and empty living room.

 _…that was quite the turn of events._

 **Oh, don't think I've forgotten about you.**

 _I would hope you didn't._

 **What the hell was that about? Waking him up when I was in the middle of the room. This was supposed to be a run in, run out kind of operation.**

 _Was supposed to be. You've been all work and no play, I wanted to see if you still had it in you to actually talk to someone. To my surprise, you actually do._

 **I don't need a quarterly review from you, thanks.**

 _I beg to differ._ There was an amused puff of static, something that mocked laughter. _B_ _esides, you never fail to amuse when you're forced to actually talk to someone._

I grit my teeth and tried to ignore the little stream of regret that flowed from under the door.

 **Maybe I can use this to my advantage.**

 _That would be quite the spectacle._

 **...Think about it. I basically have a flashing neon sign above me that says 'danger, danger'. Blake's head is cracked wide open, it's impossible to miss. What if we used him as bait?**

 _Didn't you say 'no more collateral damage' earlier today?_

 **I'm making things up as I go.**

 _How inspiring._

 **What can I say, you don't make things easy.**

I made to leave from the front door, this was going nowhere.

 _What are we doing now?_

I stepped outside.

 **You heard Blake, he told me to get out of his house.**


	10. Lessons to Learn

AN: Hello once again, I hope everyone's weekends treated them well. If all goes as expected I plan on having a more action focused chapter later in the week, so stay tuned for that. In the mean time please enjoy:

***Blake's POV***

I woke up to blades of sunlight cutting through the curtains. I rolled over in bed, trying my best to ignore the morning. My head throbbed with each movement and my body begged me to just sit still.

Since when had I even done what was good for me?

Not wanting to, but having nothing better to do I sat up. The clock next to my bed read noon. My feet hit the ground and I shuffled my way into the kitchen. I needed coffee and painkillers. The living room was a mess, the couch out of place and half the frames were crooked. I have no idea where the rag covering the bean stain went.

I clicked on the coffee maker and filled the machine with grounds.

Wait a second.

Miles broke into my house.

Miles broke into my house!

Was he still here? What did he want? Cults? Anti-christ? Something, something, you owe it to Lynn not to give up?

The coffee had started trickling into the pot below.

I walked over to the front door, it was locked and all of the dead bolts were set in place. He hadn't gone out that way. The window? It was locked too. The back door? Garage? They were all shut tight.

"Hello?" the coffee maker clicked off, no one answered.

He had been here, right? There was a vivid hallucination, the worse one I've had since… Miles looked weird too; everything was dark his eyes were glowing.

My furniture was moved, someone must have been in here.

I went back to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. It was hot and burned my tongue a little, I downed my handful of meds for the day. What had I gotten myself into now?

Whatever it was I would worry about it later, I had pictures to develop. I grabbed my duffle bag from the floor and went to the laundry room. The gaping dark room greeted me, through this time the light from the rest of the house drifted in and illuminated the washer and dryer.

I worked slowly this morning, it must have taken an hour to go from having film in the camera to having it hanging out ot dry. When all was said and done I left the dark room and went back to the house. I went about getting ready for the day.

Shower, get dressed, eat food, make sure you look like you're keeping it together.

The film was dry by the time I was ready for the day.

I loaded the negatives onto the projector, there were more dark spots in the blood. I leaned closer and tried to make out a pattern. There were definitely human shapes in the blood. I dug around for the old negatives.

Silhouettes of men with too long or too many limbs were definitely in the blood splatter.

What had Miles said?

'The apocalypse is happening… the anti-christ, or something close enough'

I went to get the paper for the photos.

I'm seeing things.

No I'm not, I just took my meds.

I went about developing the photos.

Just like last time the shadows in the negatives didn't make it onto the pictures. With the pictures hanging to dry, I put the negatives into a small film reel and tucked the whole thing into a pocket. I may not like him, but Miles was nutty enough to do something crazy and I wasn't about to just let someone run off and let themselves get kidnapped by a cult. If I gave him something that kept him in town and near the police than I could still say I was helping without making things worse.

I left the dark room. My house was still a mess, I busied myself by straightening some furniture and lifting the TV back onto its stand. Lynn watched from her place on the walls. He said I owed it to her not to give up. I gave up a long time ago, I've just been going through the motions since elementary school.

"I'm sorry Lynn." I crouched down, somehow the rag covering the bean stain had ended up against the far wall and under an end table.

I tossed it into the dirty cloths hamper. The pictures were dry, it was nearly three. I collected them and dug out a couple of manila folders from what passed as an office room. In sharpie I wrote the case numbers on two separate files, one for Morris, one for Sorenson.

Before walking out the front door I grabbed my laptop, it's case was just the right size for holding the files. The sun beat down and reflected harshly on the ground. It was still winter, but I was in the desert. I tossed my jacket into the back seat, there was no need for it today.

***Miles's POV***

The library was empty when I got there. It didn't fill up much through the day either, that was probably for the better, my cage was still pretty rattled from the visit I had payed Blake last night.

There weren't any prying eyes when I made my way over to the computers. The internet was slow here, but I wasn't exactly pressed for time. As much as I hated the idea of moving slowly I wasn't going to be able to just go in guns blazing if I was using Blake as bait. I needed to at least pretend to think of a plan.

 _I'm putting money on you slipping and killing the man yourself._

 **Aren't you constantly calling me too stubborn for my own good?**

 _Yes, but you're more reckless than stubborn._

 **I'm going to need to be both if we're going to stop the hunt.**

 _Don't say we. I'm not part of your hairbrained scheme._

 **To bad, because We are doing this.**

 _I can see why you kept insisting on saying I when we first met._

 **Sorry, looks like the shoes on the other foot now.**

True to form there was an annoyed rash of static, though my vision held up. I took advantage and went on with my search for information. Walrider was native to Germany, or at least central Europe, the anti-christ and co weren't. Everything Knoth said had been a perverted version of christianity, the walrider kept saying that this was something closer to pagan folk lore.

I'd found a hastily tapped together box filled holding a couple of crosses and a bible in Blake's garage, he'd gone to a catholic school. There was obviously a link between the two. How much of it was Temple Gates crazy and how much was actually related to the Hunt was anyones guess.

Google spat out a few results when I asked about the wild hunt.

Mostly folk lore, a few king arthur legends popped up.

I read the screen:

The Wild Hunt is a European folk myth involving a ghostly or supernatural group of huntsmen… The leader of the hunt is often a named figure… but may be a historical or legendary figure like biblical figures such as Herod, Cain, Gabriel or the Devil, or an unidentified lost soul.

Seeing the Wild Hunt was thought to presage some catastrophe such as war or plague... people encountering the Hunt might also be abducted to the underworld... it was also believed that people's spirits could be pulled away during their sleep.

Woo.

Temple Gate went to shit while Murkoff was still a factor, they had a habit of piercing the veil into some sort of spirit world. Obviously something came from the other side.

 **Do any of your friends have a flair for the dramatic? Does anyone like running around calling themselves the devil?**

 _I wouldn't call anyone my friend these days, I haven't been welcomed anywhere in over a century._

 **Fine. Out of all the people that think you're a piece of shit does anyone go by lucifer? Or Cain? Or anything biblical?**

 _Don't you remember the part where I want the hunt to happen? Why would I help you?_

 **Because I'm asking nicely? Pretty please with sugar and dead people on top is there anyone that could convince a group that they were the devil?**

Static shrieked in my ears sharp enough to make me wince.

 **If push comes to shove we both know I'm just going to try to fight whoever's leading the thing.**

 _You can try, but I'm going to stop you from doing anything suicidal._

 **It would be less of a suicide run if I got a clue as to who I was up against.**

 _You're not up against anyone. The Hunt is a force of nature, like a hurricane or blizzard, there's nothing to fight. All the sigils you've been painting are as useless as sandbags against the rising tide. When it comes sweeping through the two choices are to join or die and I know exactly which side I'll be choosing._

 **Looks like we're hunting the hunters then.**

The screen and library around me blinked out of sight.

 **Really?**

 _The storm is on the horizon, I give it less than a week before it brakes. If you can't see that, what's the point of seeing anything?_

I didn't bother with a reply.

I rose from the seat with my cane in hand. Looks like that act was a little less of an act for now. The last time I glanced at a clock it was nearly three, Blake said he would talk in the morning. It was well past then and I needed to get a feel for the guy when he wasn't in the middle of an episode. Maybe I could get his opinion on what to do next. Assuming that I didn't scare him off first.

***Blake's POV***

My phone rang while I was leaving the station.

I fumbled through my pocket trying to dig the thing out. It was some number I didn't recognize.

"Hello?"

"Hey Blake, can you meet me at the Starbucks next to your office?"

"Miles? Wha- How did you get my number?"

"...I did my homework. That's besides the point. Can you meet me or not?"

Did he sound frantic? Maybe a little tired? He was obviously a little unhinged, he had just broken into my house. Should I go back into the station and file a report?

"Paging Blake, this is important." he spoke from over the phone.

"Fine, fine. I'll be there. Give me a minute."

"Great, I'll be waiting." He hung up without another word.

I held the disconnected phone for a second while I reconsidered my life choices.

You're turning over a new leaf. There are terrible things going on out there that you don't understand, and just ignoring them isn't going to make it stop. Ignoring them never worked. It never will.

Besides, if you can save someone - anyone - maybe Lynn and Jessica will forgive you.

I shoved the phone back into a pocket and got into the car. My office was only a few blocks away, I knew the coffee shop well; it would be a ghost town this time of day. The streets were empty and the drive was a quick one, nobody was frequenting a street full of offices on a saturday afternoon.

I parked in the usual lot and made the quick trip across the street to the coffee shop. I could see Miles sitting at a table through the windowed store front. A bell chimed when I came in, Miles's head rose like he knew it was me.

He had sounded tired over the phone but whatever it was could wait. I ordered a coffee before walking over.

"I hadn't pegged you for a coffee as dessert kind of guy." was the first thing Miles said when I sat down.

"Give me a break, I haven't eaten all day and this is basically liquid cake." I sat down with a frappuccino that was more sugar than coffee.

"Whatever makes you happy." Miles leaned back in is chair.

"What was so important?" I asked from across the table.

I watched as he leaned forward before he spoke. I couldn't see his eyes through the thick black glasses, his skin was still a touch waxy, but not completely sunken in like it had been last night. I was being ridiculous, I'd been seeing things last night. Still, the high was supposed to be in the mid eighties today, the longs sleeves and jacket had to be uncomfortable, and what was with the glove? Why just one?

"As I was saying," The sound of him actually speaking made me focus on the here and now, "like it or not something actually happened at Temple Gate. I think some sort of demon made it through during that storm."

Yep, he had lass of a grip on reality than I did.

"Maybe, but there's some weird stuff going on in town. There's that Rainmaker case, it's pretty crazy. I have some negatives of pictures taken at the scene. It looks like some of your demons show up in the blood splatter." I tried my best to keep him focused on things happening in town. There might not be any bloodthirsty cultists at Temple Gate anymore, but it was still a crime scene in the middle of the desert that I'd rather never think about again.

There was a moment of silence from the other side of the table, Miles shook his head slightly like he was thinking through the possibilities of what I'd just said.

Long after the moment had gotten uncomfortable he sat a up a little straighter. He might not be able to see, but I swear he was staring a hole through me.

"Ok, new plan. We worry about Temple Gate latter, I need to make sure nothing followed me… I mean, nothing followed the rainmakers… I mean. We need to make sure nobody was summoning anything in town." I could almost see the foot going into his mouth when he spoke.

"Miles, what do you know about the Rainmakers?" I moved one leg into the aisle, ready to make a run for it.

"Nothing." that might be the least convincing lie I'd hear in over a decade, "nothing at all, but it sounds like they have something following them. I need to go check and make sure that nothing found it's way into the city." He was already standing before he finished the sentence.

"Look, I know that there are some unbelievable things going on. I've seen more than enough insane to last a lifetime, but demons and ghosts don't exist. They can't," that's what doctor Benson has been telling me, and that's what I need to be true if I'm going to keep my grip on reality.

"You have a recording of it raining blood. You and your wife walked through a storm that was straight out of the old testament and she was pregnant with a child that was impossible by what you said in your recordings. Then, said kid vanished without a trace. You're the last person I need to work hard to convince that something supernatural is going on here."

"Please don't make light of that. Lynn died, I lost a child." I didn't look up from the frozen drink on the table.

"I'm not making light of anything. There's a literal apocalypse on the horizon the sooner you get passed monsters being real part the sooner you can help me try to stop it."

This man was deeply troubled. I should have just called a doctor or something. Still, if I played along maybe I could get him to think clearly about this, to get him to want to find help.

I stood up next to him, "fine, I can take you to the crime scenes. They should be cleaned up at this point anyways."

"No time to waist" he walked out of the shop and towards the parking lot.

I scooped my drink from the table. I don't even want to think about how he knew where I had parked.


	11. Up Close and Personal

AN: Hello again, just wanted to give a quick thanks to Splinterclaw for leaving a review on the last chapter, and thanks to everyone in general for reading. In the mean time please enjoy:

***Miles's POV***

Blakes car was bathed in the same layer of regret that covered the man. I leaned against it until he was close enough to unlock the door.

I had to toss a computer case into the back, but I set myself down in the passenger seat quickly enough.

 **You could have told me that there was someone trying to follow me.**

 _I told you how to label a place as ours. You've been painting the right symbols at every scene. How was I supposed to know that you were attracting fans?_

 **You knew exactly what you were doing.**

 _The wild hunt needs a leader, who am I to stop a few lesser demons from following me?_

 **As far as the hunt is concerned, you're me and I'm putting my foot down. We don't need followers; we need to stop this.**

"So, do you know what you're looking for, or..?" Blake spoke from the driver's seat,

 _Aren't you supposed to be convincing him to be bait? Can't this conversation wait?_

 **No it absolutely cannot, and I can talk to two people at once.**

I spoke back to Blake, "if there are people showing up in your pictures that weren't there in real life things are worse than I thought"

 _Aren't they always?_

 **When they are it's usually your fault.**

Blake turned onto the freeway, "are you talking about your demons?"

"They're not my demons, I mean they kind of are. But- I mean…"

 _Brilliant multitasking_

"I don't have time to tap dance around the topic. The monsters showing up in the blood were probably attracted by the symbols that got painted on the wall. We need to send them back from wherever they came from."

"Ok," he did not sound convinced, "should we call someone, the police maybe?"

 _A fire fight would be interesting._

 **We are not bringing more people into what could be a slaughter house.**

 _But they're always so entertaining, thinking they have a chance with their guns and their laws._

I bit my tongue and tried my best to ignore the sharp memories that buzzed in my head: a street in colorado, an alcoholics apartment in Iowa, the Chicago court house.

"No cops. Trust me on this one."

 _And why would he do that?_

"Because I need you to." I'm not sure if I meant that for Blake or for that walrider.

"...right." Blake answered while he pulled off the highway.

Like someone flipped a switch my vision came back to me, I hadn't seen the street from this angle, it somehow looked even more run down than I remembered.

 **Don't tell me you're going soft on me.**

 _No, I just want to see the look on Blake's face when he gets attacked by a gaggle of monsters._

The car rolled to a stop on a side street.

"This is the right place." he spoke while looking out the window, like he was expecting someone to be watching from the shadows.

"Great, let's go."

 _So hasty._

Bake didn't move.

 **You don't say.**

Last time I had been here it was when I was half mad and losing a fight with my instincts. The place had a tired look to it, the paint peeled from an old fence revealing dry-rot on the wood. The grass on the ground was long dead, whether from winter or the summer sun from seasons past I couldn't tell.

"Here's your crime scene." Blake spoke numbly again from the driver's side.

The Walrider had gone silent – for once. I did what I could to get a feel for the place. Even ignoring Blake, there was a sense of regret and desperation in the air. A couple were argueing in the condo to the right, half the people on the left wouldn't make rent and knew it. There wasn't a sliver of hope to be found. I ducked my head in effort to block out the tempting hint of dread that clung to the ground here.

"Follow me" I folded myself out of the car and went across the lot.

A place like this could be a hunting ground for something like the Walrider.

Blake was a few steps behind me, I kept at least some focus on him. If anything had come through the blood he would be at the top of the target list. The people here were sad and desperate, but jaded. It was like a hard shell that coated them.

"Can you at least tell me what you're looking for?" he said, now from my side.

I wasn't going to sugar coat it. I know I sound insane, walking around, muttering about demons here and there but I've been at this far too long to really care.

"Literal demons. If you see and shadows moving, find me. If anything moves on it's own, find me. If you start hearing anyone who isn't there, find me. Basically, if things get weird: Find me."

There was a sharp exhale.

 _That's not going to mean much to him. You just described an average afternoon._

 **Did you decide to be helpful, or are you just here to point out the obvious?**

 _Since when have I wanted to be helpful?_

I didn't bother with a response to the Walrider, Blake was saying something, "Miles, look I know you think that there's something out there, but… I mean, it's like my therapist says, sometimes we see things that don't make since, and we try to make them make sense. You've been following a cult, so are you sure you haven't just seen something – shit that was rude. I mean- umm…" he had brought himself to a stop.

Oh right, he still thought I was actually blind.

 _That can be arranged._

 **Then you don't get to see anything either, we both know you get board way too easily too keep that up for long.**

There was annoyed static over the sounds that I heard next.

"What I'm trying to say is, do you need any help? I don't want you to throw your life away chasing something that isn't there."

I considered his bleeding heart speech for just a second. I must have really done a number on him when I said he owed it to Lynn not to give up. Which, is nice? I guess, I was just kind of throwing shit at a wall and seeing what stuck.

On a side note though, I wasn't exactly hiding the fact that there was something weird going on with me. I had broken into his house and gone after him guns a blazin'. He got a good look at me, was he really that far gone to think he imagined all of that?

I didn't want to scare him off completely, not yet at least.

I kept my glasses on and spoke, "There's something here and unfortunately I might be able to prove it to you."

He huffed a bit and kept next to me.

We were getting closer to the spot, there was something… wrong about the way the ground felt. I took a glance at the window where I had painted my symbols. The actual marking was gone but the area was warped slightly, kind of how the world looked when I was about to lose and snap into killing mode.

I stepped over the railing onto the patio to get a closer look.

"Hey, somebody lives there, you cant-" Blake tried to stop me.

"Relax, no one's home." I ran a hand over the glass, it was warm. I took a second to look around, the sun was on the other side of the building, even considering the heat, the warmth of the glass was out of the ordinary, "this feel hot to you?" I asked over my shoulder.

Blake took a couple of steps around me to reluctantly tap on the glass, "so what? it's been over eighty since noon."

I traced out the same shape I'd made a dozen times, though this time I wasn't painting anything onto the wall. There was a ripple to the air. Blake looked quickly to the side, like he'd heard something.

He looked back at me, "ok, you've dragged us to the door that had the rainmakers marking on it. There's nothing here. Can we leave now?"

"Not yet," what ever was out there was watching, there was another slight tremor in the wind.

"Whatever you're doing you can stop it now. There's no reason to be tracing that symbol onto the wall. Wait a second, how do you know what it looked like? How did you know it was painted here?"

"I did my homework?" I'd use that to hand wave some of the details I'd learned using questionable methods. Maybe it'd be good enough for this one too?

"How? You can't- I mean. Shit, what was that?"

Bingo. Whatever was out there was blinding into the general dread of this place too much for me to find it. The thing couldn't be that powerful, especially if I couldn't find it this close up, but a monster was a monster, and I wasn't about to let this thing have free reign in the slums.

"Do you see anything?" I asked the panicking man next to me.

"What are you talking about? There's nothing- fuck!" He took a step to run off somewhere. I grabbed him with my false had. Apparently it caught him off guard because he stumbled back a step or two before steadying himself.

***Blakes POV***

"Let me go!" how was he this strong?

"No. What do you see?"

Shit, I don't know anymore. "Nothing!"

Nothing real at least. Something fast and dull moved at the edge of my vision. More flashes zipped between the buildings. There not here. I'm losing it, I know Miles is saying demons. These aren't real, it's just my brain jumping to conclusions. I took a breath.

That's right. There's nothing there. It's fine.

Something light but with sharp fingers tore against my side.

"Fuck!" I pushed a hand against my bleeding hip. There was a low chirp and then a reply from the buildings.

There were more of them. Two shadows, three, five?

"Where are they?" Miles asked from behind me.

"The roofs" I think.

The hissing chirps got louder, there was another strike against my side. This time the clawes didn't brush past me; they stopped, digging into my side. I buckled and went to my knees.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the pain. Miles hadn't moved from behind me, his iron grip on my shoulder tightened. I would have screamed or yelled but the breath I took to do it with was hot and damp. I coughed instead.

The dagger like things in my side ripped away, my eyes snapped open in a panic. The apartments were gone. Well, mostly gone. I think. Whatever was around me now sat covered in thick black-red soot. The once sunbaked ground squelched and moved under the weight of my knees. I frantically shoved myself to standing before I burned my legs.

I had been here before. Last night, while Miles was braking to my house.

Panicking, I looked around. Was that thing still here?

Before I turned around I found something else instead. A man, tall and cloaked in pulsing darkness. Black sclera and glowing white irises looked up from the thing on the ground.

"Don't move." The tall man spoke.

"Miles?" This is exactly how he looked last night.

"Long story, but I can explain." He looked away from me and back at the thing he had pinned to the ground.

It was mostly human, though its limbs were wrong, shards of glass jutted out from its body at odd angles. Each arm had two joints along it and ended in a hand with three dagger like talons. It hissed and chirped as an acidic stench rose from the ground. It's face was half covered in the swampy ground before I heard more barked calls coming from the rest of the street.

I took a hesitant step back.

"Stop." Miles pushed the thing deeper into the ground with his booted foot.

The ground swallowed my foot to the ankle. The calls were getting louder.

" _Don't kill them, do you have any idea how hard it is to convince a pack of fiends to choose you?"_

The dark cloud that Miles wore like a cloak drifted into the shape of a man next to him. I made another desperate attempt to free my foot. This wasn't happening. Nope. Absolutely not.

Another wiry creature with four arms circled us.

"Don't know and don't care ghost." Miles talked back to the moving shadow that floated next to him.

"Oh god, this isn't happening" I found the words tumbling from my lips.

Miles took a couple of steps closer to me, "sorry Blake. I tried to tell you there was some supernatural bullshit going on here."

I tried to just breathe, but the hot wet air wouldn't let me take a deep enough breath. The wiry twisted things were circling us, I saw a couple scale a building, some dashed in and out of alleys.

"I'll explain later, but for now you're going to have to listen to me." Miles spoke to me, but faced the buildings

I'd seen things before, but a hallucination had never had the decency to talk before trying to kill me, "ok, what?"

Chirps and hissed passed this way and that followed closely by thin shapes.

"If I say don't move. Do not move. If I say run, especially if it sounds like I'm muttering, run and don't stop."

Oh goody, that was so simple.

"Sure," I counted five twisted things running this way and that.

"Good. Don't move."

" _Or do. I'd love to see what happens"_ a voice like crackling static came out of the ghostly shape that hung near Miles. I'm not sure if it was actually speaking or if I was just hearing things through the hisses and chirps coming from the creatures.

"Also, don't listen to him. He's kind of an ass."

" _I learned from the best."_

Ok, so whatever that thing was, it was actually speaking.

I didn't have long to dwell on that fact before another thin creature made a charge from the buildings. It didn't get far before Miles was on top of it. How did he get over there? I hadn't even blinked and he was a building over. I almost looked away when an arm was thrown from the thrashing creature on the ground. Even if I had tried to look away I would have still seen the light go out if its eyes, everything happened so quickly.

A few less chirps and hisses drifted from between the buildings. A brief pause settled while Miles stood up.

" _Are you done with yourself now?"_

In the commotion I'd nearly forgotten that the shadow still hovered next to me. What the hell was this thing?

I didn't have long to think about it before two of the wiry demons tore through the floating haze.

"Fuck!" I stumbled back under the weight on one of them.

For the split second that the thing sat on top of me I saw its face. Twisted in all the wrong places, a cheek drooped like it was made of melted wax. Pale but pulsing threads of flesh were exposed around the eyes that were nothing more than angry red orbs. Jagged and broken teeth tried to rip into the arm that I put up to defend myself.

Above me the other monster twisted in a hundred wrong angles. Thin lines of shivering black threaded in and out of the things screeching body, it didn't have time to scream before its throat burst open and its shredded body hit the floor.

The demon on top of me didn't flinch when the blood of its brother rained across its back. The lenses of my glasses were coated in a layer of pink mist that barely let me see when Miles ripped the monster on top of me away.

By back was burnt from the hot swampy ground and my arm was bruised from the things attack, but the adrenaline running through my veins launched me to my feet. I had taken a step when the ground swallowed my foot.

"Don't move" A strained voice came from my left.

A few more hisses competed with a growing static in the air. From over my shoulder I saw Miles holding the thing that had tried to make a meal of my arm. Whatever it thought it was doing to his arm wasn't working, cloth shredded and skin tore under the demon's dagger fingers, but Miles didn't flinch. The things assault slowed until it was left clawing at Miles's hand, desperately fighting to escape.

It didn't escape.

Instead the chirps grew distant and bits of the creature peeled away. First a spare arm crumbled to dust and disappeared before it hit the ground. Its stretched face came away in dusty chunks, the red of its eyes went pale and gray. The demon stopped fighting, its remains blowing away on a burning breeze.

My foot was still stuck in the hot mud when Miles turned around to face me.

" _Now are you finished?"_ the talking shadow hadn't moved during the struggle.

Miles didn't say a word, instead his glowing predatory eyes swept past the shadow. He took a step towards me.

Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit. I struggled in the mud like a fly trapped in super glue. More black haze followed behind him as he got closer. Shit, no. I don't want to die here!

A line of the darkness flowed out from Miles.

Hot mud burned against my leg.

The black line stretched past me and to the buildings behind. A sound like a dog being hit by a truck came from an alley. One last mangled demon clawed at the ground while the line of black ripped into it. Miles didn't move when the things back ripped open or when its organs were beaten into a pinkish slurry.

I'd seen worse. I know I've seen worse. Lynn, Jessica, Kn-

I vomited when I saw that the thing was still alive.

I'm not even sure it was a mercy when Miles crushed its head under a boot heel. When had he moved over there? Where the fuck were we?

"Now I'm finished." Miles spoke to the shadow that sat beside me.

" _This was a waist of a perfectly good pack of fiends. I hope you know that."_

"That's what I was hoping for." He only took a couple of steps towards me but ended up next to me anyways.

I flailed away more that I'd like to admit when he offered a hand to help pull me out of the mud.

"Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you."

" _Not right now at least."_ The shadow settled back onto Miles

"You're not helping." He spoke to the now empty street.

"What the fuck is going on?" I didn't dare touch him right now. Not when half of him was made up of whatever the hell that talking cloud was. Not when his eyes looked like something out of bad fiction. Miles was normally pale and waxy, now the tone of his skin was closer to something healthy. Was that good? Bad? Something else? How the hell should I know?

"I've been telling you, there are literal demons out there. There's your proof, you are not seeing things right now."

"The fuck I'm not. There was a talking black smoke monster, the ground is a damn swamp, the sky is… Red, purple, or some kind of fire. You look like-"

"I know exactly how I look right now. You're not seeing anything, now let's get out of here." The ground hardened enough for me to stand a little straighter, Miles ignored my flinching and pulled me the rest of the way out of the ground.

"Let's get to the car, I don't want to stick around here for long."

What the hell was he thinking, assuming I was just going to let him get back in my car? Well, I was: I'm not going to just abandoned someone in a bad part of town. But still, asking would have been nice.

The layers of soot were flaking off the buildings while I trotted a bit to catch up to Miles. The sky had drifted back to normal when a sharp pain in my hip stopped me from going on.

"gah, shit."

Miles turned around, the buildings had gone from burned to their normal sun-dried state.

"It's not that deep. You're not running anywhere, but you can make it to the car."

He hadn't taken much more than a glance at it, "how do you know?"

"It's one of many talents. Here, you can use this to help you walk" He handed me the white cane he used to walk with.

I put some weight on it before we continued to the car.

"I suppose it's pretty obvious that you're not really blind."

"Only sometimes" he fished out a pair of thick sunglasses from a pocket. Even though I knew that his eyes had some unnatural glow to them I couldn't tell through the shaded lenses.

I was huffing a bit by the time we reached my car "anything else I should know about?"

He slumped into the passenger seat "this isn't really my arm" he motioned with his gloved hand.

The engine rumbled to life, "then whose is it?"

There was a bit of light laughter, I didn't think this was very funny.

"Well, it's technically mine. I don't just go around stealing limbs from people"

There must have been five of those things back there, he ripped them to shreds.

"Could have fooled me." I pulled onto the highway. It was lit enough to see by the city around it, only the edge of the sun still hung above the horizon.

There was a bit of a shuffle while Miles took the glove off of his hand. The road was mostly empty, I got a good look at the thing. Each finger was made up of a black haze, if the lighting were a little better I'd probably get more details.

"What is that?" I looked back at the road, my exit would be coming up soon.

"Mostly lead, and some other stuff" he added the second part a little bit faster than I was comfortable with.

"Like..?"

"I mentioned a guy named Wallace? Spoiler alert, there's no one named Wallace."

"I'm shocked," I was not shocked.

"What a twist, I know." I could almost feel his eyes rolling "Anyways, the angry cloud that wouldn't shut up back there is what's holding everything together."

Miles put the glove back on while I mulled everything over.

I tried my best not to mull everything over.

Don't be like that Blake, you've tried dealing with things by not dealing with them and it's literally never worked.

I pulled into the entrance of my neighborhood.

"Ok, before I start jumping to conclusions. Tell me, starting from the beginning: What the hell is going on?"

There was a slight huff that sounded more amused than annoyed.

"I hope you weren't planning on going to bed any time soon because it's a long story."

I pulled into my driveway, "I'll put a pot of coffee on."


	12. Fine

AN: We made it to Friday (finally). I hope everyone's week was well, and please enjoy the chapter:

***Miles's POV***

I might have left out some of the more damning details, but Blake got the jist of it loud and clear.

"…And I've been hunting monsters across the south west ever since." I finished recapping my adventures since I'd left Iowa.

Blake took a deep drink from the mug of coffee that had been refilled and drained a dozen times in the last night.

"So how does that connect to Temple Gate?" The mug clinked against the table.

"Do you remember the Murkoff trials from last year?"

"How the hell could I forget, Lynn was going ballistic about the whole thing- everyone at the paper was- she didn't get to see the last trial though." He pushed his glasses up to rub at tired eyes, "sounds like you saw a thing or two while you were there."

"While I was there hunting monsters" I added

"Right, right. The car wreck. I heard about it, but honestly it seemed like such a tiny footnote at the time. Everyone was more focused on the courthouse attack. Wait a second, what did that?"

Leave out the damning details.

"Murkoff liked to make monsters. I haven't found out who or what was behind it, but if I had to guess, I'd say one of their experiments caught up to them."

He re-aligned his glasses and bent forwards for the mug again, "Sure, but that still doesn't explain how they're connected to-"

"You saw that tower when you were crossing the lake?" I cut him off.

A thousand yard stare started creeping into his eyes, a few wisps of paralyzing fear flared around him. He shook it off and continued talking, "it was hard to miss."

"Good, so I was looking over the tapes from your camera and I compared them to the tapes from Mount Massive."

"Why were you even comparing the two?"

"Because I had a feeling about it."

Blake doubtfully looked at me from over the top of his mug.

"Any ways, I compared the tapes and there was a name in common between the two. And those bursts of light were coming straight from that tower. And the corporation was still operating at the time. And this looks exactly like another experiment."

"Miles, you came in here talking about demons and the occult, now you're talking nonsense about corporate conspiracies."

"I know it sounds crazy. It is crazy, but hear me out."

"I've been doing that. We're in my house, I've been listening for the past five hours. You still haven't told me what the hell happened back at the apartments."

I had been dodging that like bullets in the matrix.

 _I'm not sure why. You've never shied away from talking about me before._

 **I'm avoiding it because it's not just you anymore. It's me too. I don't like to talk about it.**

 _Oh, my heart bleeds._

"What happened?" Blake held his cup in both hands. The worry that should have rolled off of him in waves timidly seeped into the couch instead, like he was far to use to fear and loathing to care about something less aggressive.

I gave a light hearted chuckle to try and lighten the mood.

"You caught me. What can I say? You said Lynn had a thing for the Murkoff tapes, I was there. The second set of tapes was my handy work."

He considered his mug for a moment. If I didn't know any better I'd say he was looking for a message in the black water he held.

"You've definitely got some problems, have you ever looked for that Waylon guy? He filmed the other footage, the one that got released officially. No one knows what happened to him. It sounds like he'd be all over this sort of thing."

I clenched my teeth a little. He didn't know. I sunk into the couch, "We met. It didn't work out well."

"Wait, are you saying you know where he is? He's been missing for over a year, you need to go report that."

"No, he's nowhere. Trust me." I needed to get this back on topic, I wasn't about to go explaining the gory details of Waylon's last day alive, "weren't you wondering what happened back at the apartments?"

"Yes, but- Miles what did you do to Waylon?"

"I didn't do anything to him. Murkoff did. They did something to Temple Gate too, they were working on something called the morphogenic engine. I don't know exactly what the machine did, but it was driving the patients even more insane. That tower was doing the same thing to Temple Gate."

"How…" Blake stopped to consider what he was saying "ok. You were at Mount Massive, you've seen things. I can understand that. You saw a machine and now think the same thing was happening in Temple Gate. Are you sure that you're not just projecting? You expect to see Murkoff around every corner, so you do?"

 _He knows a thing or two about that._

"I'm sure of it. You don't want all the details, but I know they're behind it."

"Why don't I want all the details? You're the one who's been following me around and dragging me into your crazy. There's a cult running around out there killing people, then you show up a day later, and start dragging me through the crime scenes. Why? Why are you bringing up a corporation that's dead and gone?"

"Ok, Murkoffs dead, but that doesn't change the fact that they're the ones that caused all of this. You're right though, I have been kind of tight lipped."

"You haven't told me anything that matters. Miles, I can barely tell what's real and what's not. I thought that I was just seeing shit when you broke into my house the other night, but now you're telling me that it was real. In the car you told me, in no uncertain terms, that you were literally possessed, and now you haven't mentioned it." little bits of dark water sloshed over the edge of the mug, Blake was talking with his hands "honestly, what the fuck is going on?"

 _Now are you going to talk about me? I feel so unloved when you ignore me._

 **Stop.**

"That's it, I'm doing what I should have done the first time you broke in." Blake had fished a cell phone out from his pocket.

He didn't have it in his hand for long, a ribbon of swarm shot out from under my sleeve and curled around the device. Blake yelped and tumbled back a little in surprise, I pulled the phone back towards me. The contacts were displayed on the screen. The most recent call was from a man named Morris. I kept the thing by my side, though I didn't bother to hold it in my hand.

"You really don't need to call anyone." The last thing I needed was my name floating around with the FBI out there. I'd been using a fake name on and off for the past couple of months. No one would find anything more than a couple of months old if they looked up me real on, but I didn't need anyone connecting me back to Iowa. I don't think I've mentioned my last time, but I knew more than anyone that the smallest facts were all it took to uncover the full story.

Blake had flung himself over the back of the couch and stumbled to standing. The muscle in his legs tightened, ready to run.

"Calm down."

 _Now are we going to talk about me?_

"Fine," I went ahead and took off the sun-glasses. I could see fine with them on, but sometimes I just wanted to see the world without a film of gray on it.

"What are you doing?" He was still on the edge of running.

"Nothing much. I already told you about the Walrider. Murkoffs little pet project. That's what you saw on the burnt out street. It was the black cloud that wouldn't shut the fuck up."

 _You wound me with words._

"You can handle worse."

Blake hadn't relaxed much, and my comments to myself didn't help.

I did a bit of explaining, "it didn't shut up then, and it won't stay quiet now. It's just something I've gotten used to. Don't worry about it."

"Too late for that"

"I can't really blame you. Sorry about the fiends back there. I'm not happy about dragging you into things either, but I needed to see if there was anything at the scene. That answered my question."

"It doesn't answer mine. Why did you need me there exactly? You've gone on about real monsters, but you haven't said a word about why I need to be involved."

Quick like a band aid, that was the best way to handle this.

"If anything was there, it would tuck tail and run as soon as it saw me coming, but you're like a walking buffet."

"Wait, were you using me as bait? How does that even work?"

"I'm not using you as bait."

 _Really, that's only what you said word for word._

 **Shh, he doesn't need to hear that right now.**

"To give the cliff notes, you're a sad sack and monsters eat that shit up."

"Is that how you keep finding me?" he bit his tongue as soon as the sentence left his lips.

It was, but the assumption smarted just a little.

"I mean-" he gaped a bit, "do you want any coffee?" He finally moved, though it was more of an awkward shuffle than the mad sprint his legs had been expecting.

"No, I don't need any coffee, thanks. Anyways, I was right, there was something at the apartments. Even if dragging you out there was going too far, leaving it would have only been worse. You couldn't see it, but that place was a hunting ground. The people that live there only would have been targets, think of a small scale Temple Gate,"

"You can stop right there. I don't need to imagine what that could have been like,"

"Then don't you think you have a responsibility to stop it? You saw everything first hand, and now you've seen proof that it's happening on your doorstep. Don't you think you should do something about it?"

The coffee machine rumbled as a new pot of water started to boil "and what the hell do you want me to do about it? I'm just a guy, I've never been able to help anyone with anything. Now you want me to go – what? Go ghost hunting or something? I take pictures and hide in barrels. That's it."

 _Well, that settles that, let's go look for another group of street thugs to play with._

 **Uh, no.**

"you can help me out here. I've got my eyes on Temple Gate anyways, aren't you at least a little interested in figuring out what happened?"

"No! I'm doing my best to forget." He poured a new glass of steaming black liquid.

"Ok, let me rephrase that. Your choices are to do nothing, and get killed in a flood of demons and mad men, or you can try and do something about it and only _probably_ get killed by demons and mad men."

"you're not much of a salesman are you?"

"I never made a living off of being likable," I needed to get this show on the road, I took a quick glance at the walls, "besides. Lynn died trying to do the right thing. Don't you owe it to her to at least try?"

***Blakes POV***

That son of a bitch.

I drank the still steaming coffee, the burn it left on the way down my throat reminded me that I was still alive.

He just had to go invoking Lynn's memory, didn't he? She watched me consider the choice from the walls. I couldn't save her. I probably couldn't save myself at this point.

Apparently there was some sort of demon in my living room.

A couple of prayers I'd learned in my childhood nagged at me:

 _though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death; I will fear no evil_

Sure, the valley of death. Been there, done that.

"What if I help you?" I asked in spite of myself "You can't be everywhere at once, I nearly got torn to shreds by things that were only mostly there. There's a cult of mad men out there, apparently summoning these things. What happens when you aren't there to stop them?"

"I can't promise you it'll be safe, but don't worry about people. I've got more than a few parlor tricks up my sleeves." He considered the gloved hand as he spoke.

"You don't know what these people are capable of – well, maybe you do. I saw some of the Mount Massive tapes, but these crime scenes the rainmakers leave behind are worse."

"Don't worry about the Rainmakers. They won't be a problem."

I didn't buy that for a second, "let's say that they're not, but what about the next cult, or the next batch of demons? You said you wanted to go to Temple Gate, there's no one left there, but the way you're talking it seems like you know different. What happens there? You came in here telling me that I make for great bait, do you really think that makes me want to go jump out in front of danger?"

Who did he even think he was, coming in here and telling me that there are hundred creatures out there that would love to have me for lunch? I've already been on the receiving end of cannibalistic maniacs, I already saw things in the dark that weren't there. Did he really think that I wanted to start seeing things that were actually stalking me from the shadows?

"I know you don't want to go out there, but you have to. I'm not exaggerating, the actual apocalypse is about to happen. I need to stop it. Are you going to help, or not?"

No. I didn't need to think twice about it.

Miles sat on the couch in front of me, glowing eyes stared back.

Nope. Not a chance.

Lynn was watching me.

…

"Are you going to help or not?" he asked.

Couldn't save Jessica. Couldn't save Lynn. Couldn't save our daughter. Couldn't save myself.

I couldn't save myself, so what's the point in trying? Mile's plan sounded like nothing more than very elaborate suicide.

"Fine. I'll help."


	13. Inconvenient Truth

AN: Hello once again, I hope everyone's weekend went well. I also hope everyone likes the chapter. Feel free to leave behind a comment and more importantly please enjoy the chapter.

***Blake's POV***

Miles left my house sometime around four in the morning. I don't know where the crazy bastard went, I couldn't bring myself to care much either. Sleep came slowly and in uneven bursts; I was too busy seeing visions of Temple Gate, real and imagined.

I walked along a blood drenched trail, thin shadows flitting between buildings. Heretics howled, demons hissed. I couldn't see a damned thing besides red painted metal and rot-black wood. Things in the mist would twist past me, taking layers of skin and ribbons of cloth with them.

I would toss and turn in bed, waking up to my empty room.

Sleep wouldn't stay for long.

I ran through a crumbling cave, Lynn screamed my name in the distance. The voice echoed and bounced off of every wall. She was everywhere and nowhere. Grinding metal drowned her voice, the shadows of the mine jerked and shattered. Something with glowing eyes and no arm marched out of it.

The sun drifted through curtains. I shut my eyes against the light.

Even drops of thick liquid made tiny dripping noises against splintering wood. Cold dirty hands touched my shoulders gently, a soft bundle of cloth sat unmoving in my arms. The angry light sliced through the roof, a scream met the burst midair.

I sat upright in bed, leaving a thin layer of sweat on the blankets.

Looks like sleep was a pipe dream. My glasses were where I left them on the bed side table. Without much thought my morning routine kicked in. Check phone, make coffee. Shower, get dressed.

I hadn't bothered to turn on the TV by the time a pot of coffee had finished.

The door was locked tight, Miles let himself out last night. Once upon a time I had no idea how he reset the deadbolts from outside. Now a days I had my answer.

I grabbed my computer bag and the mug of coffee. He said that there was a connection to the Murkoff corporation. That sounded like a madman's ramblings. Though these were mad times, I might as well give the tapes a second look.

My hands ached while I clicked through the pictures I had taken. There had to be eighty or so. The few that I'd found near the lake were just more of the same – insane ramblings from a village gone mad. A few chapters of Knoths bible.

There was one, I only dimly remember finding it near a sleeping bag. It had seemed so out of place, the handwriting was clear and easy to read, unlike the uneven scrawls on tattered pages from the town.

Maybe this is what Miles had been talking about?

I could go find the Murkoff footage, it wasn't hard to find online, especially if you were seeking it out. I opened up a web browser, my hands hung above the keyboard.

Hadn't I seen enough depravity to last a lifetime?

Probably. More than likely Miles was grasping at straws. At least I hope he was. Still, I'd seen those things at the apartment. The man himself was clearly something more, or less, than human. If he said Murkoff was the cause of that, then who was I to call him a liar?

Reluctantly I went on the search for Mount massive footage, the second set of video specifically.

A seedy little site in one of the weird corners of the internet had it all in one long unedited video. With my luck I would get a computer virus from this site. Regardless I hit play.

It may be because I didn't have to live through this place, or it may have just been wishful thinking, but it wasn't as bad as Temple Gate. I think.

Marna, Val, a mound of dead children.

No, I definitely saw worse.

All together the film was hours long. I resorted to clicking around, the comments section below was filled with your usual internet sociopathy. Though someone was kind enough to put time stamps of whenever Miles found a document. I didn't want to see the gory details, I skipped around reading the pages instead.

He wasn't making anything up about the Morphogenic Engine, or the Walrider. Though he did leave out a few of the more gory details when it came to the past. I scrolled back up. Hell, the documents make it sound like the Walrider was capable of-

I came back to the video just in time to see a giant man in chains get lifted from the ground by a skeletal apparition. His back bent like a bow string and threatened to snap before he burst apart and tangled shreds of his flesh were sucked into an air vent in the wall.

I scrolled back down.

I had stood next to that thing. Holy shit, Miles knows where I live and he was talking to that thing the whole time he was here. He'd used it to grab my phone, it made up an arm of his.

Ok. Murkoff was behind at least one thing. It could be connected to Temple Gate, somehow.

Maybe.

This was terrible, but it didn't have me convinced.

I shut the computer and enjoyed the silence for a second.

Not that it last long. There was a sharp knocking at my door, I jumped out of my skin and had to take a second before I heard the tapping over the sound of blood roaring in my ears.

I looked through the peephole. It wasn't Miles, to my surprise and relief.

"Mister Langermann? It's agent Sorenson, open up."

I took my time undoing the locks on the door. What did she want?

"Oh, hey. I can hear him at the door." Agents Lopez's voice drifted through the wall too.

The last deadbolt was undone, I slid the chain from its place. The door swung open, letting the aggressive sunlight in with it.

"Agents? What are you doing here?" I swear to god, if there was another Rainmaker case…

"Nothing too crazy, you're not under arrest or anything. Can we come in?" Lopez spoke with a light hearted air about him. It didn't make me feel any better.

Sorenson stepped in front of him, "We just had a couple of questions. We hate to bother you, could we please come in?"

"Sure," I stepped aside.

The two walked in. The room was still a mess, at least all the furniture was upright again. I wasn't in the mood to field awkward questions about my house.

"Wow, how long have you been working with the police here?" Lopez stared at the crime scene photos hanging in front of the framed photos of Lynn.

Ok, I was still going to have to talk around some things.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Sorenson beat me to it, "I'm sorry that my partner speaks so bluntly," she looked daggers at Lopez's back, which he didn't noticed.

"It's fine" it was not fine.

Sorenson nodded in either thanks or agreement, I didn't take the time to figure out which, "anyways, we need to ask if you have the negatives from the crime scene pictures."

"Of course"

"Good, could we please have those? I need them for our report." Sorenson was polite enough about the request.

"Sure, let me just…" I was halfway into the laundry room when I remembered that I had given the negatives to Miles.

I stopped, "actually, I… I think I got rid of them." Shit, I didn't want to lie to the FBI.

"What do you mean, got rid of them?" Lopez spun around to ask the question.

"…they were foggy, and bad quality. So I put them in a scrap pile." I tried not to wince while I talked. I was never a good liar.

"But the pictures looked fine to me." Lopez kept talking.

Sorenson's nice lady act started to chip away a little, "mister Langermann, where are the negatives?"

"ummm… They-"

I was interrupted by another knock at the door. Lopez's head whipped around to look at the door, Sorenson kept facing me, but let her eyes drift to the source of the noise.

"Hey, Blake! Open up." What the hell was Miles doing here?

"You should get that." Sorenson spoke, I listened.

Why the hell did he have to come dropping by now? Last night he had taken his glasses off, shit I hope he had them on now. What about the Walrider? Please don't let there be that black cloud floating around him. I had only locked one of the dead bolts behind the agents, it didn't take long for me to get the door open.

Miles stood on the porch, as normal looking as I think he could be. He bumbled his way in, swinging his white cane as he went. He crossed the room in a few steps towards the agents. The end of the cane tapped against Sorenson's shoes.

"Oh, Blake, you didn't tell me that you were having company over today." Miles spoke like he was surprised. Was he acting too hard? He knew very well they were in here. Was the tap on the shoe too much? They had to know he was faking.

I swallowed a bit of panic.

"Oh, uh… I wasn't expecting anyone."

"Nice to meet you sir, I'm agent Sorenson, of the FBI. My partner, agent Lopez, is on the other side of the room." She introduced herself but didn't bother to hold her hand out for a shake, probably assuming that Miles wouldn't see it.

"The pleasure's all mine." He didn't turn around but addressed me "you didn't tell me you were helping the feds, is there something going on with the police?"

I seem to remember talking very plainly about the FBI last night. Oh well, just go with the act, you don't want to go pissing him off.

"Just same old same old" I spoke just above mumbling.

"There he goes again, keeping me in the dark." There as a good natured grin attached to the words, apparently it struck a chord with Lopez because the agent joked back at him.

"Some friend, eh?"

Miles took a step or two towards the other agent, "tell me about it."

The two got wrapped up in a conversation of their own. I didn't bother listening for details, though the two were talking loudly enough to make speaking to Sorenson unreasonable. I was more than thankful for the distraction, but why had he come back here? Did he know the FBI was inside? Was he still stalking me? Probably. He had said I looked like a walking buffet to the monsters at the apartments. What did that make me to him? An ally or a meal?

A lull in the conversation and a heavy thump brought me back to the living room.

"Wow, you're built like a tank." Lopez commented at his own surprise as he lifted a hand from Miles's shoulder.

"What can I say, I work out." Miles answered back with a light shrug.

How far up did the Walrider go? Did it stop at the elbow? Shoulder? How far?

"As I was saying, mister Langermann. The negatives." Sorenson advantage of the brief pause to talk.

"Oh, well you see…"

"Wait a second, is she talking about the negatives that you spilled coffee all over?" Miles spoke up from across the room.

An out. "Yep. Those are the ones." I tried not to look too thankful for the excuse.

"I swear, I may be the blind one but you're definitely the bigger klutz" more friendly smiling came with the words.

"I don't think I caught your name?" Sorenson spoke up before Lopez had the chance to make a comments on Miles's coat tails.

"Where are my manners, I'm Wallace." He stumbled over a little to shake her hand in greeting.

No, you're name is Miles. Wallace was how you referred to the walrider when you were pretending it was a person.

"Do you have a last name Wallace?" she shook his hand and held on to a professional air, although I could still make out a hint of suspicion in her features.

"It's Rider." He answered without a beat.

Wallace Rider. I tried not to roll my eyes.

"Well, mister Rider, mister Langermann. You two have a nice day. It looks like I'll have to be filing my report without the original negatives. Seeing that they've been destroyed." She didn't buy the story for a second. I knew it, Miles knew it, agent Lopez may or may not know it.

"Have a nice day." I managed to squeak out a few words while Lopez and Sorenson went back out the front door.

The thing had barely shut before I turned back to miles.

"What the hell-" he shushed me and went to the front facing window.

My curtains were mostly drawn, he leaned against the wall and peeked outside. He sat quietly for a few minutes. There was the distant rumble of an engine coming through the walls, he waited a few seconds after it faded from hearing before speaking.

"That went well."

"What the hell was that about?" I finished my question.

"I heard you getting absolutely ruined, so I stepped in. I'd hate for you to get yourself stuck with the FBI for a few hours."

"I'm not hiding anything. There's no reason to worry."

He dug through a jacket pocket to pull out a small film reel. He shook his hand slightly and tilted his head.

"ok, so maybe that's one thing. But, it looked suspicious as hell to have you show up."

"I'd rather keep the FBI busy and looking up a fake name for a couple of hours than I would have you tell them you gave me the negatives."

I went to pour myself another cup of coffee. I hadn't taken my meds yet, they went down with a scalding drink.

"So what if the FBI gets involved? Wouldn't the law be a pretty good place to turn to?" we were talking about literal demons, even I knew the law was wishful thinking.

Miles knew it too, "oh please. You've seen this stuff happening in real time and it's taken days to convince you to think about helping. The best I can hope for from them is to get locked up in a nice insane asylum."

Ok, he's got me there.

"Fine. What do I say when they come back?"

"Don't worry about it" I was starting to really hate the phrase

"I think I will."

***Miles's POV***

 _That's fair. I don't trust you and I live here._

 **You're not helping.**

 _Am I ever?_

 **Honestly, not really. No.**

 _Good._

"Ok, worry all you want. But we've got work to do in the meantime."

Blake packed up his laptop as he spoke, occasionally stopping to wince when he moved too quickly or grabbed something too tightly, "just tell me where we're going."

"That's the spirit, do you remember where the last attack happened? It was some sort of alley."

"I remember." He slung the bag over his shoulder.

"Good. Round two, we need to make sure nothing came through there either."

There was enough apprehension rolling off of him it threatened to congeal around his legs and make moving impossible, I continued talking:

"You'll be fine. Just let me know if you see something."

He reluctantly walked past me and out the door. I followed close behind.

 _Why don't we just keep him to ourselves? We're going to a dark alley anyways, lets just have some fun and be done with it. There's no reason to put ourselves in the FBI's path, unless you want to go back to hunting something armed._

 **I'm not killing Blake. Let it go, if you're lucky we can ruin the day of whatever else is following us.**

I sat myself in the passenger seat, Blake tossed his bag into the back and pulled the car from the driveway.

 _Just let go. There's no reason to keep fighting it._

 **There is every reason to keep people from killing each other.**

 _If that were really the case then you should have just let yourself die at Mount Massive. You've spilled that much blood a dozen times over._

 **From people that deserved it.**

 _Oh yes, everyone deserved it. It sure was a shame Schaeffer tried to wake you up after you stole his gun._

 **That was an accident.**

 _It was still blood spilled by you. Besides, you've seen what people are capable of. Mount Massive, the Zeichner facility, Temple Gate. A wild pack of thugs tried to mug you in an alley. Is humanity really so innocent?_

 **You know it is, this isn't like Murkoff. You're not going to talk me into wholesale genocide.**

 _I've never talked you into anything. Ever since we met it's just been you slowly justifying every terrible thing you've done. You said the Murkoff workers deserved it; they were just earning a paycheck. The police in the street were self-defense; there was nothing you could do. Schaefer and a dozen others were accidents, where does it end? The thugs in the street were monsters, they weren't and you know it. The only monster here is us._

 **That's not true. I'm not a monster, you are. I don't want to kill people in cold blood, it's all been you sitting on my shoulder telling me to do it.**

 _Is it really? I seem to remember pulling you off of Schaeffer's cold dead body._

I bit my tongue before I said something out loud

 **I was in a bad place.**

 _You're there pretty often. I didn't have to lift a finger against those men in the alley._

I closed my eyes behind the sunglasses. I didn't want to deal with this right now.

 _Right, just ignore me. That always works so well. It doesn't matter what you want now, the wall between this world and mine is crumbling away a little more every hour, I give it four days before the hunt breaks loose. Try and be the good guy as much as you want, but when the hunt begins I'm going to stop being so polite._

I bit my tongue hard enough to draw blood, not that it actually bled. The car came to a stop on the side of the road. I could hear something out there. Blake didn't say anything but the dread in the air was thick enough to taste.

As much as I would like to, I couldn't stall forever.

"Let's get this over with." I let myself out of the car, Blake joined me a second later.


	14. Close Encounters

AN: Hello again, I hope everyone has had a nice week so far (on a side note, sorry if this is getting posted a few hours later than usual, my internet has been wigging out). Anyways, please enjoy the chapter;

***Blake's POV***

The alley had been scrubbed down by CSI, as far as anyone was concerned nothing of any significance had ever happened here.

The stiff way that miles was walking told me otherwise. This alley gave me the creeps, whether that was just from my memory of it being painted red or because something was out there watching me, I had no idea.

"So, does it look like any of your monsters have been here?" he had called the apartments a hunting ground. Did this place look the same to him? There weren't any creatures running around at the edge of sight this time. Was that because there was nothing there? Or were they just hiding?

"There were shapes in the negatives. What do you think?"

That didn't make me feel any better.

"I'd like to think that they were the same things that died at the apartments."

"Do I hear a shade of optimism? I've never been so proud."

I spared a quick glance over my shoulder. Really? Now wasn't the time for sarcasm. Miles answered my glare with a shrug that said all the time was the time for sarcasm.

I huffed a bit and took another step down the alley.

This is where they had painted symbols onto the wall. What did they mean?

"Base to Blake, do you see anything out there?" he called from the street.

"No, I think you got all of them back at…" I turned around to face him. There was something there.

Ok, don't panic.

Talking now would mean nothing but a string of swears. I pointed a shaking head instead.

Miles couldn't have turned around more slowly if he tried.

The thing behind him looked like death itself, nearly skeletal hands reached over his shoulder with gray slivers of flesh dangling this way and that. The creature's arm was hidden in a wide dark cloud. Was it covered by a cloak? Did demons even wear clothes? I had seen the things on the burnt street, they were caked in pink blood and had bone spurs poking out of them at odd angles, but nothing resembling clothing. The walrider was some being made form solid shadow and – if Miles was to be believed – beads of lead.

Whatever this was, it was cloaked under something thick and cloth like. I couldn't see a face, or not what passed for one anyways. The only thing visible slithered this way and that occasionally a black-green scaled line of flesh twisted in and out of the shadows.

The bony fingers had dug into Miles's shoulders before he finished turning around to face the demon.

I didn't have the mind to say anything before stammering backwards. I don't know what was going on here. I don't need to know. I didn't take the time to find out before getting my footing and running headlong down the alley.

***Miles's POV***

The street past me was bathed in a familiar soft soot. The thing that faced me was irritatingly clean.

" _Is that really you?"_ It wasn't the Walrider that spoke, it was the voice of that other thing. Each word echoed and stretched deep into the next, almost to the point that I couldn't make out the sentence.

The layer of swarm that the Walrider used as a body drifted off of me in the steaming alley. It formed a familiar ghostly form, the urge to rip this thing in half hit like a hurricane.

" _Don't you dare."_ The walrider spoke that time. My arm gave way and the swarm that once formed it wrapped around me. I ripped at the wall of darkness that held me trapped like a rat in a cage.

"Let me go!" I wasn't putting up with this bullshit again. My fingers twisted into the shifting mass.

" _So it is. And here I was thinking someone was just signing your name on their work to make a statement_." the demon hung on its words, a shimmering layer of cloth covered up its body besides a couple of hands covered by skin thin enough to be considered not there at all.

My armless shoulder shook loose from the cloud before a new branch of shadow wrapped around my throat and pulled back.

A low groan that barely passed for laughter folded out over my street " _The rumor mill struck true today."_

" _How so?"_ The Walrider glided between me and the approaching apparition. If I could get loose again, just for a second, I could wrap a hand around its neck. I'd learned not to assume an easy hunt off of looks, but this thing was bleeding a twisted joy and reeked of overconfidence. It was nothing to fear. Probably some spectre that took to haunting the depressed from dim corners.

" _The consensus was that you had chosen a host nearly as reckless as you are."_ That idiotic laughter was still hanging over my road.

" _I promise you, I look upsettingly calm compared to this creature."_

" _Even so, I'm not surprised that you would be so brazen as to claim this big of a territory as yours."_

The only thing that was mine was this street. This thing needed to die here, I'd had enough of the Walrider acting like a piece of shit in the car, I had enough of this thing being in my head. Even if it was just here to be killed.

" _What can I say, I've been locked up for so long, I decided to make a grand come back."_

The Walrider now sat firmly between me and the other demon.

" _As long as you think you know what you're doing. I've never been the one to discourage hubris."_

" _It's only hubris when you don't have the ability to back it up."_

"Oh fuck off, we're not doing anything!" I wasn't about to claim territory or feed into whatever the Walrider thought it was doing with the hunt. The thing in the cloak could eat shit for all I cared, I tore at the wall of swarm a little more. As much as I tried to reach for the walrider and force it to listen, I was met by nothing but my own thoughts. I couldn't reach out and twist it to my will when it was already part of me, this wasn't like the dreamers attacking me, or my going after Balthophet.

" _I would tell you to keep your dog on a short leash, but if I know you that's part of his charm."_

The swarm around me dug through my skin less gently than I had grown used to. I stifled a pained yell while the Walrider took up a spot that nearly blocked the other creature from sight.

" _Never mind him, he gets cranky when he's hungry."_

"I'm not a five year old!" Don't treat me like I'm not even in the room.

" _It sounds like you're in good company then."_ There was a slight shift in the shadows on the ground when the thing started drifting away, " _I'll be seeing you around. I trust that you expect me to spread word that you're back"_

" _Expect and hope."_

I was about to make another break for it when I felt the swarm wrap around my bones and fill my throat. Son of a bitch! Let me go you dense pile of lead!

" _Until next time then"_ my street seemed to breathe a little more when the other thing started fading from the edge of my senses. For a split second I got to think about something other than ripping everything within reach to shreds.

"What the fuck was that?" I dropped loose of the smoke wall. I didn't need the dreamer infection telling me to be pissed now, I was already there all by myself.

The floating figure of the walrider swiveled in air to face me.

" _An acquaintance. He saw my markings and assumed it was someone faking it for attention."_

"I gathered that from the way you were talking like I wasn't in the room." Damn it! I was the one in charge here this was my head and my body the Walrider didn't own me.

" _G_ _ood, then I don't need to tell you that I'm gearing up for the hunt. Who knows where the lines will be redrawn after its done. However it ends up, I plan to come out on top."_

"It's not going to 'end up' as anything at all. Not unless it's over my cold dead body."

The swarm melted back into a thin haze that settled over my shoulders and reformed my arm. I stayed in my street though, I had some words to share with the Walrider.

"Slow down, we're not going anywhere yet. Who was that and how do I kill them?"

" _Y_ _ou're not doing anything to him. Not even I'm crazy enough to try that."_

"You weren't scared, we could take him" One less demon out there now meant one less that I had to deal with later.

" _There's not a doubt in my mind that we could crush the old snake if it came to blows,_ _but he has friends in high places that I'm not so sure about."_

"Whatever's out there, I'll find a way to get rid of them. Even if I kill myself along the way."

" _I don't doubt that. I actually count on it."_

"I thought you were interested in keeping me alive"

" _I am, I just appreciate the determination. It's refreshing to have someone think that_ _they still have a say in things this long into being my host."_

I let the soot start to lift from the edge of my senses. Maybe I could use the Wariders ambition to my advantage. I could call this area my own and make it a do not enter zone.

I hadn't taken my glasses off, but they sat crooked from my thrashing around. I took a second to straighten them. When I was done there was no trace of Blake, a quick glance over my shoulder showed me that his car was still on the street behind me.

He must have seen the other demon and made a run for it, not that I can blame him.

"Blake? The coast is clear" I stood at the mouth of the alley.

He was still close, I felt a familiar sense of dread coating the place. It was too thick to pin point though, he could be standing right next to me and the taste of fear in the air would be as rich as it is now.

"Come on out, it's safe" as safe as it was going to be at least.

There was a small shuffle of metal against metal, a lid slid off from the top of a trash can. Blake folded himself out of the case and onto the street.

"What was that?" he asked through shaking breath.

"Good to see that you've finally decided it was real."

He shot me a look that told me now wasn't the time for humor.

Jokes on you kid, all the time is the time for sarcasm.

"But really though, I have no real idea. Someone I don't really count on seeing again any rate."

"Someone?" he said while walking towards me.

"Someone, something. They talk and have names, but I wouldn't call any of them people."

"Wait, did the things at the apartments talk?"

"Well, no" I circled around to the passenger side of the car.

Blake dropped into the driver's seat, "so were they, what? Demon animals or something?"

"Look, not all of them talk. Ok?" I dug around in my pocket for the note pad I kept.

The car turned on and pulled onto the road, I flipped to the back of the book.

I didn't have much in the way of notes, it wasn't often that I got a demon talking details before I killed it. Pulling facts from the Walrider was like pulling teeth too. I wrote on the nest clean page:

Old Snake, has friends in high places, could be beaten in a fight.

Fiends, come in packs. Don't talk. Annoying.

"What's that?" Blake asked from the driver's side.

"I've been keeping notes, it's not much but I like to think that if I write everything down eventually I'll notice something I missed" jotting down notes when things got rough was an old habit that I had forgotten that I missed. Getting back to it had become something of a coping mechanism. It kept me a little more grounded, reminded me that I was still human.

"I always stuck to pictures," I watched as the tendons in Blake's hands and fingers flexed slightly, "especially these days."

"I take it they fucked up your hands?" the tapes didn't have anything showcasing torture, but you don't just walk through a place like Temple Gate without getting the shit beat out of you.

Blake had a distant look to him, little beads of horror flitted around him like nats, "there were people there, they looked like plague victims. I don't know what they had to do with Knoth, they were followers, but something different too. They hadn't gotten the anti-chirst message. When I showed up they caught me, called me a messiah and took my camera, then they crucified me"

Father Martin's melting body, writhing in hungry flames, surrounded by brainwashed followers. No one ever accused me of being pious, and that only helped to convince me I was right.

"So, they really fucked up your hands."

"Then I got caught in a net of barbed wire and buried alive."

"Why didn't that make it into any of your tapes? Just, I can't imagine just letting that slide. None of that made it into the article online, why aren't you telling everyone about this? You can't just let them get away with that."

"They didn't. Everyone there is dead, there's no reason to tell everyone, it's better to just let the memory of the place die too."

"No. No it's not. You have to tell people, that's why you're a reporter, isn't it? You can't let the bastards get away with being bastards."

"That's, not- look people do shitty things. There's nothing I can do to stop them, what's the point of telling everyone else. They can't do anything either. Telling people won't bring Lynn back, it won't make people look for my daughter, and it won't save Jessica."

I didn't know who that was. He had been screaming the name while he'd trapped himself in that nightmare of a school but he'd never talked about her to me. I'll figure it out later, in the meantime, "But we're doing something about it now. That has to count for something."

"Are we? I'm not, you've been running around, making me hide things from the FBI. Apparently you've killed some demons, I haven't done shit."

I did what I could to ignore the sense of self-loathing in the car.

"Pity yourself all you want, but don't pretend that you're useless. Not completely at least,"

Waylon had given up. I watched that last statement Chealsy had filmed. There was nothing left, he thought he lost it all so he threw away what he had left. I didn't know Blake, I didn't have a reason to help him, but I'll be damned if I just let someone wither away.

 _Is that a hint of remorse I feel? I've seen you act the sentimental old fool, but regret is something you've tried to ignore._

 **Not now ghost.**

"It seems like pretending it the only thing I do these days." Blake answered back before pulling onto the highway.

***Blakes POV***

It was still midday when I got back to my house.

"You're keeping notes about the demons you've seen?" I was almost interested in reading them. Almost.

"Keeping notes keeps the facts straight" he answered matter of factly

"So where are you going?" I asked Miles, trying to change the topic. I wasn't too keen on letting him back into my house, though realistically we both knew he could just break in.

There was a moment's pause before he answered, "I'll figure something out. I'd hate to keep you up all night."

Did he even sleep? Did it really matter?

"Well, don't get yourself arrested by the FBI while you're out." I left the car, I was halfway inside before I heard the passenger door shut.

My scarred hands had the latches and deadbolts in place before I had bothered turning on the lights. There was enough light coming through the windows, I didn't want the pictures to look at me. I slumped against the door.

It was real. Monsters, demons. I couldn't deny it now, no matter how much I wanted to. Was there one stalking me through the school? Had that been some twisted memory of Father Lautermilch, or was something really there. It had followed me into the mines, the heretics had gutted and skinned a hundred men and women. Were they possessed by something otherworldly or was it all the some madness bread in the human mind?

Lynn wasn't pregnant at the beginning of the night, but I had a daughter by sunrise.

What the hell happened?


	15. A Plan Comes Together

AN: Happy Friday everyone, hope your week was a good one. I hope y'all are ready for some plot to happen because I have a few things planned for today and next week especially. In the mean time though, please enjoy:

***Miles's POV***

I'd have to figure out what to do with the FBI later. The negatives sat in a pocket next to my notepad. They weren't as useful now as they had been a day ago, honestly if Blake weren't such a terrible liar than the that lady agent wouldn't even be suspicious of him. Now I had her looking into me and that was never a good sign.

 _The last time we had a brush with the law, they ended up dead in their own home. I don't think the agents live here, but I'm sure a hotel is good enough._

 **No, we're not taking the nuclear option. They're just doing their jobs.**

I needed to shut down whatever was brewing in Temple Gate, hopefully that would stall the hunt for a few days. Then I needed to get the hell out of town before the FBI started getting more suspicious. I'd left Blake for the day, as much as I would love to run out there and be done with it, I could only drag him through so much in a day.

The guy was cracked wide open, but I needed him to be at least a little sane. Acting like a colossal asshole would get results, but I couldn't shove Blake over the edge either.

 _That's never stopped you before._

 **Thank you for the commentary, really I had no idea I have a talent for jack-assery.**

 _I just thought I should remind you. I can't have you thinking you're a good person, now can I?_

I let the conversation wallow, I knew where this was going and I wasn't interested.

I made my way out of the neighborhood, making sure to keep to the blind guy act.

Blake needed a break. I'd bide my time until tomorrow, then I'd find a way to get him out to Temple Gate. It was Sunday, he'd have to go to work in the morning. Maybe I could make a reason to point him out there.

 _What are you planning?_

 **Oh, now are you interested in talking to me instead of at me?**

 _I just want to know whether or not I should expect a good show._

Of course.

 **I'm not setting off any fireworks if that's what you're asking. But hold tight, I think you'll get a kick out of this.**

… _You have my attention._

***Blakes POV***

It was Monday. My morning routine kicked in: check phone. Shower. Get dressed. Don't turn on the lights. Coffee. Meds. Get computer. Go to work.

There was no hint of Miles or demons in my yard when I went to the car. My commute was uneventful. For the first time in what felt like years it was a normal day.

My usual spot in my usual lot was clear. I walked passed Olivia and exchanged the usual pleasantries. Boris was picking up his usual reports and Ashley was talking to her usual sources. I went to my desk. Was I getting a normal day?

"Hey Blake" Mitchell walked up, we usually took a few minutes to chat in the mornings, "some guy came through here earlier and gave me this."

Mitchell held out a small notepad.

Some guy. Miles? Detective Morris? Agent Lopez? Someone else?

"Thank you?" I took the little booklet, "did you catch his name?"

He took leaned against my desk, "you know, now that you mention it, I don't think I did."

Probably wasn't Lopez or Morris then, I opened up the first page. The handwriting was in block capitals and easy to read. The first page read, keep your facts strait.

Mitchell chatted on, mentioning something about a story he was working on - apparently there's been an uptick in violent crimes. I gave the conversation just enough attention not to seem rude. If I wasn't mistaken this notepad was a copy of the one Miles kept on him. Each page was filled with information about demons and monsters, a few had nicknames, most were labeled deceased.

"Blake? Hey man, are you listening? Blake?" I looked up from the pages,

"What? Yea no, I'm listening."

Mitchell nodded his head a bit, "sure you are. Is everything ok?"

"I'm fine. Everythings fine." Why was I getting a notebook filled with half-mad, but still true, ravings of a wanna-be demonologist?

"You look a little spaced out is all"

He was just trying to help. He's just being a good friend.

"I just didn't get great sleep last night, let me get through my coffee, I'll be good as new." I tried to smile, but that was something my face had forgotten how to do over the last few months.

"Hey man,if anything's bothering you I'd be happy to talk about it."

I gave a tight smile and a curt nod. Trust me Mitchell, you don't want to know.

"Anyways, how's the police work going? Ashleys been up and down city hall all weekend trying to get word about this Rainmaker business."

"I'm trying to avoid that." True, I just wasn't doing a very good job of it.

"Oh, sorry" he was genuine in his apology, "does it remind you of…"

I shook a little while I nodded "Well, yes. It's just… I- I can't deal with it. It's too much." Still painfully true.

"I get it, man. Sorry for bringing it up. I'll talk to you later?" He was trying to cut the conversation short. I couldn't really blame him, I had made it awkward.

"Of course. Have a nice day." I waved him off before sitting down at my desk.

Normally I would set up my computer and get to work, but today the journal starred at me from the edge of the desk.

I picked it up.

Ok Miles, what the hell was I supposed to do with this?

Only a few of the pages were blank, I flipped through them quickly. Each one followed the same formula, name, description, dead/alive, weaknesses/strengths, last known location. It was like the worst kind of pokedex, what did this say?

Blind dreamers.

A disease (causes various mutations)

Alive

Weakness: extreme blunt force trauma, most conventional weapons.

Strengths: psychic attacks, healing factor, fast/agile.

Last known location: N/a

Did I want to know what N/a meant in this context? Probably not. There were more pages, Walrider (nickname), Balthophed, Old Snake (nickname), fiends, others that I didn't want to think about.

The last page had a message written on it,

Blake, you said that people didn't need to know about things they couldn't change. Well, now you know everything I know. Do me a favor and do something about it.

Oh, so this was some inspirational bullshit.

I shut the booklet and tucked it into my computer bag. I had work to do, Miles's crusade could wait.

***Miles's POV***

Everyone was wearing short sleeves, I fidgeted with my jacket sleeve where it met the glove.

 _Regretting your choice in disguises?_

 **I'm starting to look a little out of place, that's all.**

I wasn't sweating, if anything the desert sun still felt cool against my face. I'd never liked the cold, and the dreamer infection wasn't helping. I unzipped my jacket to keep up appearances, the street I walked down wasn't crowded, but I already stuck out with my cane and glasses, I didn't want the extra attention.

I got a few steps closer to the police station I'd caught Blake at a few days ago. That name I gave to the agents wouldn't hold up under more than a cursory glance, and the last thing I needed was for Blake to blunder his way into police custody. He hadn't done anything wrong, but he knew too much and I'll be damned if he didn't act guilty about everything.

No, that would slow things down way too much.

I pulled a folded piece of paper from my jacket pocket. The police station parking lot started here, I leaned against a neighboring building. A little stream of swarm slid from under my sleeve, the little cloud gripped the paper. There was no one looking my way when I moved the note to the station door. I could barely make out what I was doing from this distance, but I managed to slide the paper between the door and its frame.

The second someone tried to open the door my little note would fall out. I'm sure a paper with the Rainmaker symbol on it would get the attention of the Agents.

 _You mean my seal._

 **Pot-ay-to, pot-ah-to.**

There was nothing in there that was true of course, but it was enough to distract the agents enough from scrutinizing Blake or my cover. A measly letter wouldn't even need Blakes attention, they could just scan it.

 **That should keep them out of my hair.**

 _But it would have been so fun to-_

 **Don't even start with me.**

 _Feeling an itch are we? You devoured a whole pack of fiends Saturday night._

 **What part of don't start did you not understand.**

 _I understood all of it, I just ignored the "don't" part._

I walked on. I thought I was too far from the station to still feel it, but there was a little ripple of commotion that was growing. I guess someone found my letter a little sooner than I was expecting.

 _Why don't we do a follow up? From the feel of things they're more than aggravated enough to make it worth our time._

I bit my tongue.

There was still a second phase of my plan.

I kept a small disposable phone, paid for by the minuet. My fingers typed Blakes phone number. It rang until the voicemail picked up. Good, that gave me less explaining to do.

"Blake, don't freak out but I found more rainmaker scribblings. This is big, meet me at the coffee shop by your work."

I hung up.

It would be a bit of a walk from here to there, but I should get there before he takes lunch. That was one more piece set in place.

 _Gaslighting the man, are we?_

 **Only mostly.**

 _I still don't see why you haven't just dragged him out there and been done with it,_

 **I thought you weren't helping.**

 _I'm not, just curious._

 **Call me old fashioned, but I still frown on kidnaping. That and I'd rather have someone who's at least a little sympathetic towards me than someone who's actively trying to run away when I need their help.**

 _So be it, but don't you think your house of cards is going to crumble in on itself?_

 **Look, I don't need Blake to like me for long. I just need to shut down whatever crawled into Temple Gate, after that he can go back to living what passes for a life.**

 _That's awfully cold thinking from someone so passionate about helping people._

 **I'm doing the right thing and it needs to get done. I don't need people to be my friend.**

It was probably better that no one gets close to me. They had a habit of dying horribly.

 _Ah yes, you're a wounded man out to save the world from itself. How could I forget._

That was bait and I wasn't going to take it. There were more people here, a dozen floating emotions drifted in the air.

Someone was having a bad break up over the phone. A lady to the left was late on rent and worried about it. The man on the other side of the street had a brother in the hospital that he was scared for.

I walked on. If everything went as planned I'd have more than enough on my plate tonight.

***Blakes POV***

My phone was ringing. It was a number I didn't recognize so I didn't pick it up. It would be lunch soon, I would worry about it then.

I went back to the computer, these sources weren't going to cite themselves.

The typing was slow, but I was getting through it, I was almost too absorbed in my task to notice Ashley pushing her way out of the room in a hurry.

"Any idea what that's about?" I asked over my screen to Boris.

"What?" he looked up just in time to see her sprint down the stairs, "Hey, Mitch! What's Ashley doing?"

Mitchel looked up from the other side of the room, Claire yelled before he got the chance to speak though.

"She just got a message from her source with the police, they got a letter from the Rainmakers."

The room moved a little slower that it had been, I watched Mitchell wince a little. Boris said something that I didn't quite make out. Breath. That doesn't mean anything to you. At least it's not another body.

The room shattered excitedly the way it always does when someone gets a big scoop. My phone buzzed on the table under the noise.

I should get back to work, my phone blinked. There was a voice message.

Please don't be Morris. There wasn't a body this time, please let there not be a body.

I picked up the phone, the message was a short one.

It was Miles, "Blake, don't freak out but I found more rainmaker scribblings…" I dropped the phone.

Too late, I was freaking out.

I fumbled around on the ground for my phone for far longer than I needed to. They're just talking up there, everything is fine. No one died. It's fine, Miles found something. All you need to do is go stand in an alleyway. It's fine. I got back to sitting up, there were still clumps of excited chatter here and there. I gathered my things. I needed to be somewhere that wasn't here. The voice mail mentioned going to the coffee shop, I didn't want to go there either.

My shaking hands were putting the notebook into my computer bag when Mitchell made his way to my desk.

"So much for not bringing it up, huh?" he tried to be good natured about it.

"You tried."

"Are you ok, do you need-"

"I'm just going to go." Most the things I had left to do could wait until tomorrow anyway.

"Are you sure, we could just ask the guys to cool it."

"Nope. I'll see you later" I stood up and slung my bag over a shoulder.

I didn't want to be here, I didn't want to talk to Miles, I didn't want to do anything besides curl into a ball and disappear. Miles's plan had sounded like elaborate suicide, maybe if I went through with it I wouldn't have to do anything else. I threaded my way past Mitchell, though my legs felt closer to jelly than they did anything solid.

"I'll call you later" Mitchell yelled after me.

I waved a little in response. He was a good friend, I didn't deserve half as much.

***Miles's POV***

The coffee shop was packed.

Half the people in here were stressing about student debts and scared of having to pay taxes. I went to a chair in the corner. There was a guy who was trying way too hard to be seen clicking away into a laptop, the single empty table in the building was next to him. I should have picked an emptier spot, there was too much going on in here.

 _That's what you get for trying to be the good guy again._

I wasn't going to waste the effort on talking back to the Walrider. Something sad and impossible to miss was walking cross the street. The fleeting feelings that only a coffee house full of twenty somethings could conjure gave way under a flood of something more solid. Blake took a few steps that were far too rushed for him to be calm.

It looks like my voicemail worked a little too well.

He barely made it to the table before he spoke "What did you find?"

"Nice to see you too"

"Miles, don't play with me. The police got a letter from the Rainmakers, what's going on? What did you find? Are they doing something-"

"Slow down. Christ, half the building is staring at you. Sit down." Curiosity and a few flurries of confusion drifted my way. The sweetness of it all drowned out the scent of coffee.

He hurriedly sat in the chair, the muscles in his legs didn't relax.

"You're high strung"

"Call me crazy, but when I get cryptic messages about mass murders I start acting a little funny."

"Quiet." I whisper yelled. A few more eyes drifted our way.

"What's going on?"

He seemed oblivious to the prying eyes. Good, I needed him to be on board with this next part, "long story, I'll fill you in as we go. We need to get to Temple Gate. Now."

"Why the fuck would I go there?" he stood back up.

"So much for being quiet." I stood up next to him, maybe I could steer this conversation outside, "look. I found where the Rainmakers were staying, but they had flown the coop. A couple of notes were laying around, they went to Temple Gate. We need to get there and stop them from summoning whoever. Come on."

To his credit he had started moving, "this sounds like a job for the police."

"And tell them what?" I kept walking, he followed slowly, "hey don't ask how I know, but that cult of murderers you've been looking for has gone to an abandoned town in the middle of the desert, you should send all your people out there."

He staggered a bit, there were gears turning. I could feel little beads of panic giving way to rational thought before drifting back into panic.

"Ok, so maybe telling them to go to Temple Gate wouldn't help. But why do I need to be there?"

We had stepped outside, there was just enough room to breathe out here, although Blake was getting harder to ignore.

 _Naughty, naughty, I thought you were still trying to be a white knight._

"Bluntly? You're the bait."

We were across the street, nearing his car. Blake opened his mouth to protest, gapped a bit, but then decided on saying nothing before going to the driver side of the car.

"Fine, do whatever it is you need to do."

"No worries, I'll get you back in one piece." I clicked my seatbelt, not that I really needed it.

"Not if I'm lucky."

We pulled out of the lot. I didn't take the time to retort his last comment. I already had enough to focus on not ripping him to shreds while he was driving.

 _You could have just taken someone before leaving town._

 **That would make a Rainmaker case, they're supposed to be in Temple Gate. I can't contradict my story.**

 _I think killing your bait would be a bigger issue, but it's not my idiotic scheme._

 **I'm not killing Blake. Besides, I might need to be a little crazy to kill whatever's lurking in town.**

 _You meant the thing that was hiding from the two of us when we were there last?_

 **Yes. It won't be hiding this time, Blake is a damned magnet. Also, I think it has a bone to pick with him. A couple of recordings made it sound like he had a part to play in all this.**

 _The tapes narrated by a man who was losing his sanity about people who had already lost theirs? Very reliable, I'm sure._

 **That's as reliable as the information I got about you.**

I busied myself with looking out the window. Blake was silent from the driver's side, but I had to fight to ignore him. The fear was rolling off him in growing waves and with each minute that passed the time since I last fed grew.

It was going to be a long ride.


	16. Ghost Town

AN: Hello everyone, I hope your weekend was nice. In the mean time thanks for reading and please enjoy:

***Blakes POV***

I had turned off of the main highway an hour ago. The last time I had been down this road I was half-conscious and in the back of an ambulance.

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" I asked Miles

"Yes."

He hadn't looked at me since we left town, every time I asked him something the answers had become more short and clipped. It didn't inspire confidence and I couldn't help but let my mind wander.

He said he found notes about the Rainmakers summoning something out here, he had a demon riding round in his head. How sure was I that they hadn't gotten to him in some way? I didn't know how any of this worked, and by the way his notes had been written it was sounded like the Walrider had a mind of its own.

He said that he'd been dealing with it since The Mount Massive incident, hadn't that happened over a year ago? He was still walking and talking, but I had no way of knowing what he was thinking.

This whole thing was pretty suspect, I was driving to the middle of the desert with someone I didn't really know to face off with murders in a town that was haunted by creatures beyond my understanding.

I took a quick glance to my side. Miles still looked out the window.

He knew something I didn't.

I wasn't going to walk out of Temple Gate today, was I?

Maybe the radio would take my mind off of things. I clicked through a station or two, they were nothing but static. Figures, nothing reached this far out into the desert.

If I didn't walk out of here, would anyone really be missing anything? Mitchell would probably be pretty broken up about it, but he would get over it. They could find someone else to do my job at the paper. It wouldn't take long to find someone else to take crime scene photos. Doctor Benson had plenty of other patients. Everyone would be fine without me.

"Hey Miles?" I had to get a real answer.

He grunted a bit in reply.

"I'm not going to make it out of Temple Gate, am I?

"What?"

He leaned further away.

"I've just been thinking. I'm running off into the middle of the desert with some guy I barely know who's told me he's been talking to a demon that lives in his head."

"Don't worry about it."

"It's fine. I made it out of this death trap once, I suppose that's one more time than I should have expected."

"Don't be so casual about it." He still wouldn't look at me. Yep, I'm doomed.

"There's no point in worrying about it. I had a good run, but there's no one waiting for me when I get home."

"Stop that. You'll be fine. He'll be fine" He added the last part to himself.

"Are you talking to the Walrider? It thinks I'm going to die too, doesn't it." I drove past a sign that said the town was only a couple of miles away.

"That's not what it's saying. Don't worry about it. You're not dying here on my watch."

It sounded like he was talking to himself. I think I might want to die here today. I watched Lynn die in the chapel at the top of the hill. Our daughter disappeared that morning. I must have seen a thousand hanging Jessicas. I searched the faces of the mutilated bodies in the mines. I was looking for Lynn's face, for my own to. I hadn't lived since then, not really.

I pulled off the road and onto the dirt path that lead into the town. They only found me out here because the helicopter had been reported missing from the rental company. How long could I have been stranded out here? I probably would have ended up dying somewhere in the sand and rocks, wondering along the road.

I came to a stop at a streamer of yellow tape that asked not to be crossed.

It's been cut, the Rainmakers must have already been through here. There weren't any fresh tracks on the ground, but then again they could have come in on foot.

"Any clue as to where they went? " I sure as hell wasn't going to be able to find them in here. I had spent most of the night hiding in barrels or running for my life, not exactly the best way to get a feel for the town.

"Pull over" I rolled to a stop, Miles was halfway out the door before I had the car in park.

I tucked the keys into my pants pocket before following Miles. He was a couple of feet down a trail before I cough up to him.

Last time I had seen this place there were bodies and debris scattered as far as the eye could see, now it seemed like the buildings were held up by yellow tape.

I wasn't interested in a trip down memory lane, I jogged a couple of steps to walk besides Miles,

Where were the Rainmakers? I didn't want to get caught in the open, not after I'd seen they're handy work, "where are we going?"

"Just keep next to me." In spite of the words he walked like he was trying to make some distance between us.

We passed an empty gallows, I trotted along. We were going up the trail to the chapel.

"Miles, slow down." I felt something watching us.

How many Rainmakers were there? The FBI didn't release a statements giving specifics, just that there were more than one of them. Were these doors still unlocked? There had been more than a few wardrobes to hide in. That window looked unlocked.

I thought I heard a door creak, a quick glance around the town square revealed nothing that could have made the noise. Miles didn't stop walking, my guts felt like they had turned to wet concrete but I made to catch up again.

We were half way up the path that lead to the ruined church, the sound of shifting rocks was getting closer.

"Miles-"

"I know" it sounded like he was talking through gritted teeth.

We continued on our way. The front door hung wide open, crime scene tapes billowing like a shredded banner. Miles stepped through them.

I did not.

"Come on." He spoke over a shoulder.

There was a baby crying.

"Blake, what…"

The sound of blood rushing in my ears drowned out the rest of the words, though that high pitched sobbing cut through even that.

I had told Doctor Benson that I had a daughter, I saw her at the end of the night. I know it was impossible, but I know what I saw.

Something shook my shoulder.

It was Miles's gloved hand, "Blake, what are you seeing?"

"I…" the crying was coming from the building. She was born in there. Was that table still in there? Lynn died there. Was that torture wheel still there? That man died there, eyes gouged out and chest carved.

"Blake, snap out of it!"

The crying grew distant, something shifted the rocks again.

I blinked away the memories, there was something out here. I knew better than to wait and find out what. I looked to Miles, did he seem more gray than yesterday? Was it just my imagination or did he look more gaunt and predatory than he had when we got in the car? With protesting knees I continued through the door, better the devil I know I suppose.

It would have been dim in the building, but the ceiling had been ripped skyward, most of the broken beams had dried in the desert sun and started coming down as gray dust. The room felt hollow and stripped of color. I froze in the doorway, Miles took a few slow steps before leaning against a the confessional boxes that stood to the right.

The table was still in the room.

Lynn was still there, in a grimy dressing gown, painted in dark blood and dusted in pale dirt.

"There's nothing there" her voice came from nowhere and everywhere. It seeped from the walls and dropped from the sky. It hung in the room forever and faded before it had begun.

I stood over the table. When had I taken a step? My legs didn't answer when I tried to move, they were too busy being bogged down by a memory.

"Blake?" she looked up at me, her swollen belly shaking under the ragged cloth.

"Oh my god. Lynn?" I stood unmoving as she reached up to me.

Her pale arm swayed this way and that from the seizure like thrashing of the rest of her body.

I could have been standing in hell itself, I wouldn't have noticed. The way Lynns terrified eyes cut in to me left the rest of the world as a dim after thought.

***Miles's POV***

I had tucked the sunglasses into my shirt collar, anything to distract myself from the display Blake was making. My face may have been buried in my hand but I could still see the room around me. Walls painted in dread, the exposed sky above swirling with wild energy that threatened to crash to the ground any second.

 _Such masterful planning on your part._

I didn't say a word back. There were things out there, they had been peeking at us from the empty houses the second Blake drove up. The same things that had hid beneath the floorboards when I first came through now patrolled around the building. I felt a few of them picking at the front door, putting a toe over the threshold and then slinking back.

There was a tremor from the other side of the room. A bright shock of light cut through the room, I squeezed my eyes tighter against it.

"Oh my god, Lynn?" a few terrified whispers came from Blake across the room.

Something tore at the windows.

With a flinch I looked for the sound. The things outside darted past the windows. I felt them on the roof, a quick glance up only revealed them dashing from view. Blake was getting harder to ignore, waves of fear and regret filled the room. I pushed harder against the wall, the dried wood creaking under my weight.

"No, no that's not what happened" he was talking to himself. I hope.

Don't do anything stupid.

"Blake," I tried to speak through gritted teeth, "what's going on?"

All hell's breaking loose, that's what was going on.

He didn't say anything back, instead opting to talk to the table he stood over.

There was no way he'd react fast enough if I jumped him. I could be on the other side of the room before he even considered responding. A blow to the head and-

I'm not here for him.

There was another noise from outside. I bit my tongue and pushed myself harder against the wall. Wait for them to trap themselves inside.

"No, Lynn. Lynn. I'm here. Lynn?" Blakes ramblings were getting louder by the second

They weren't scatting from my sight anymore. Lumpy gray creatures gathered along the broken ceiling. That's right, just a little closer.

"What, no! I never- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

One of them dropped into the empty chapple, three more followed suit. They pulled themselves across the ground with scythe like arms. No human features adorned their faces, instead each one's head split open at the chin, jagged teeth and broken twigs grew from the two halves and joined to make a messy maw.

There was something else out there. These things were no better than hunting dogs baying at a hare. Trapping it for their master to move in for the kill.

I could use a few minions.

"I don't know what they did. I don't know where she is" Blake had dropped to his knees at the table.

The four demons spread through the room, each taking a spot in a half circle behind Blake. A fifth presence lurked outside. I know exactly where she is. The hunting demons spoke in guttural screeches. I heard static, and through it drifted a few scattered words: We found him.

Nothing came from Blake besides a few choked sobs, fat waves of agony rolled through the room. A new thing pulled at the emotion. I watched the waves role through the room to the doors, they drifted like the current of a small stream to the thing outside.

A little longer. It was almost here.

A long thin shadow drifted into the room, my hands twitched.

Time stretched, the fifth creature glided into the room.

Now.

I moved.

The swarm coated the wall. I had them now. The beasts around Blake twisted to face me. Too slow. There was no escape. Sharp sickle arms cut into the ground, they hissed and shrieked into the dark air. They could wait. The real prize stood by the door. It turned to face me.

Too slow.

I reached for the demoness at the door. We crumbled to the floor. Anger and shock cut a bitter line through the sweet dread in the air. It didn't know I was here, too focused on its own hunt.

It had been so sure of itself. Savory pride had blinded the thing to me. It was my turn now. My hand ripped into the writhing shadows.

The chapel crumbled around us. Low shrieks faded from my senses. The last thing to reach me were a few breathy sobs.


	17. A Plan Falls Apart

AN: Hello once again. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter because I had a ton of fun writing it, on a side note the combined word count for this trilogy is over 200,000 now. That's not really important, I just thought it was a fun little milestone. More importantly, please enjoy the chapter and don't be afraid to leave behind a review, it's always great hearing from readers:

***Blakes POV***

Lynn was gone. They were all gone.

The hard ground was the only thing that was real. The screaming, the sobbing infant. They weren't there. My legs wouldn't listen to me, I rolled on the ground. It wasn't safe here. I didn't know why, but it wasn't safe. I put tired and aching hands against the ground to push myself up.

Why was it so dark in here? There wasn't a roof, it was the middle of the day.

My head swam and I stumbled as I tried to stand. The dirtied table was the only thing I had to help myself up. Lynn was gone. It's okay, you can touch the table. I set an empty hand against the warm wood. See, there's nothing there.

I took a second longer to remind myself how to stand, doing what I could to ignore the occasional noises that came from the room behind me.

Ok, I had my moment. What now?

"Hey, Miles? What are-"

Oh my god

Run!

I didn't move.

There were only a few wayward strands of light to see by. Shrieking gray creatures darted in and out of the dark. They didn't run, limbs that ended in fleshy blades cut into the ground and dragged their lumpy bodies at sprinting speeds.

My sight throbbed with my pulse. Where do I go! What do I do?

The shrieking lessened slightly, cut off by sharp sounds of static and grinding metal. I took a step back. The shadows weren't shadows, they moved and swayed. A few tendrils of the dark lashed this way and that. Some of it brushed against me, taking layers of skin with it.

Walrider? Something else?

More rumbling screeches gave way to a rash of static. Is this why we were here? The Rainmakers had finished summoning whatever? Was I even really in the real world, or was this some other nightmare place?

Something bit into my arm. Frantic thoughts rushed away from my mind. Looking down I found some other dark bundle. It didn't shake and move like the shivering dark of the Walrider, it was solid and smooth. Panicking I flailed. I don't know what this was, and I didn't want to know.

It clung like tar as it climbed my arm. The sharp cries were gone, static got louder.

With wild abandon I swung at the wall with my tar-covered arm. I needed to get this thing off and then get out of here. My arm connected with the wall with a heavy thud. The static got closer. Another heavy hit. I couldn't stay here forever. The tar climbed higher, I tried swatting it away, only for it to cling to my other hand.

The shivering darkness in the room drifted away from the walls, a single tall figure stood in the middle of it all.

"Fuck!" I don't know what that man was thinking but it wasn't good.

A phantom claw twisted out of the shroud that flowed around Miles. That didn't look friendly, I staggered a step back. The tar gripped my shoulder. My legs finally started listening, I thundered a few steps across the room before something burning hot dug into my right side.

Breathy screams twisted from me. I stole a glance backwards. How was he this close? He had been all the way over there. More stinging engulfed my shoulder. The smooth dark lashed at the scattered cloud of the Walrider. The death grip on my arm slowly gave way. I wasn't going to stay for the finale. It was run or die.

I didn't want to die.

Layers of skin started to give way, like sandpaper had been dragged across my arm.

The tar peeled away, focusing on staying alive.

I could almost run. Almost. I looked back again, how far was he?

Glowing eyes and a gaunt face couldn't have been but a foot from my own.

Run!

The grip on my arm hadn't given away completely when I tore myself away.

I didn't want to die. I was wrong. I was wrong. Three steps later and I was sprinting. There was a door in the back I had come during the storm. Run, right there. I hit the chipping wood and didn't even realize I needed to open it before I had it swinging wide behind me.

The hill was steep and unkempt behind the building. Oh well, run.

I tripped and rolled through dry thorny bushes, only coming to a stop when I hit a rock. Shit, my glasses. Where were they? I groped at the hot ground. I sliced a finger on what felt like glass, in a hurry I slammed the frames back over my eyes. The left side was spider webbed and impossible to see out of.

Oh well, better than nothing. I hobbled to my feet, the chapel on the hill above gave way wall by wall. Lashes of solid black cutting through windows and shattering wood.

Not my problem. I ran off in a sprint. Where was my car?

I hadn't gone ten feet before a few more shirks rose over the sounds of the falling chapple. More of them. I ran faster ignoring the fire in my lungs and the weakness in my knees. I needed to live.

I came to the town square, gray lumpy things clawed at windows from inside the houses. Adrenaline was a hell of a drug, I'd left the car unlocked, the keys were in a pocket. Gravel and sand crunched under foot. Glass shattered. Demons cut into the earth with their sickle arms and pulled themselves after me. There could have been a thousand or just a dozen. I didn't stop to count.

The car door was hot from the sun, it nearly burned to rip the thing open. I fell heavily into the driver's seat, narrowly slamming the door shut before the closets demon crashed against the metal. They were so loud, I could have been hearing voices in the screams. They crawled over the car, a back window shattered. My hand shook and refused to put the key in the ignition.

Not now damn it!

I had to hold one hand with the other, gray blades cut through the car roof. Metal groaned, whether from the attack or from Miles's monster I don't know. I don't know which would be worse.

By some miracle the key slammed into its place. The engine must have rumbled to life, but it was lost in the storm of noise. Frantic I threw the car into drive and slammed on the gas.

The movement threw me back in the driver's seat, the tide of monsters scattered from the sides of the car. One of them clung stubbornly to the hood of the car. It raised one scythe like arm and thrust it deep into the engine block. The car rolled to a stop, metal and creatures alike screaming.

Fuck!

They were back on top of the car in a second. The creature on the hood pulling its way to the wind shield. Without thinking I dove into the back seat, narrowly ducking under a blade that poked through the roof. A shadow passed over the gashed in the car. Hissing static competed with shrieking demons. I looked up from the ground, a bead of light drifted through a rear window.

Do or die, I crawled over broken glass to the back door. Letting myself out I ripped at the ground, going into a sprint while I was still coming off the floor. I didn't need to look back, there was only death that way. Half blind I ran from the town. The screams grew further and fewer with each step.

It wasn't safe here. It never had been, it never would be.

***Miles's POV***

Taking on this many ghouls at once was foolhardy and he knew it. Not that it stopped him, the idiot. Outnumbered two dozen to one and yet here he was.

Two of them crumbled to dust before us. He didn't notice the one coming from behind. I didn't fancy the idea of healing a wound on the back, a quick lash with the swarm ripped the ghoul in half. A few more idle flicks left the thing as a chunky puddle on the stony ground.

Why couldn't we do this in a crowded street? Or on a packed bus? Ghouls were all fine and good, but people were so much more satisfying. If you ask me this was no better than crawling through the trash for a meal when you've already payed for a buffet inside.

He shoved my arm through a ghoul, it's dyeing cries twisting through the teeth and twigs that filled its earthly body.

Where had the she-devil gone? She was a crafty one, I'll give her that.

Taunting Miles by going after Blake, she let his damned hero complex be her saving grace. I wouldn't have thought of that.

Half the ghouls were dead, I saw myself out. Miles was far too gone to notice if I was there or not, dealing with him when he gets like this was a lost cause at any rate.

Where had she ran off to? I could appreciate the quick thinking, but after that display I'd have to be a fool to think she would be friendly during the hunt. Besides, I would hate to share my territory.

A trail paved with fear went into the canyon. It tasked like Blake. I drifted through the brush along the path, leaving thin carvings of my sigil as I went. This place would be mine as well.

Why go after Blake in the first place? Sure, he was mad beyond repair. He might even be fun to run around in for a week or so, but someone that broken wouldn't survive being a host for long. I had seen the tapes, the villagers here thought that he was the father of the anti-christ. That was almost entertaining it was so stupid.

There had to be another angle besides just being a good meal. The brush started clearing, a lake shimmered in the distance. I had seen this place, Miles was fixated on that radio tower in the distance. I suppose I should be thankful to that corporation, without them I would probably still be stuck in a bottle somewhere, but gratitude wasn't in my nature. The trail started to scatter here. There was the slightest hint of movement at the river bank.

I found her.

" _I hope you weren't too attached to your ghouls."_ She stopped at the waters edge, probably looking for somewhere to run off to.

" _I have plenty. You should be more worried about your hunting dog."_ There was nowhere to hide, Blake's trail grew colder by the minute.

" _He can take care of himself."_ I left some distance between us. I didn't recognize her, though being trapped in a jar and buried in a monastery hadn't left me with many chances for networking over the past 600 years.

" _I wouldn't be so sure."_

" _If you're trying to get me to run off and check on him you can stop."_

She was barely solid. It was no surprise she had been able to hide so well last time I was here, it probably took the bulk of her ability to stay on the earthly plane.

I continued on, " _I'll speak plainly to you. You have three choices: pledge allegiance to me for the upcoming hunt, run and don't put a toe into my territory again, or die."_

There was a thin laughter from the river bank, " _be a follower to some no name that I've never even heard of? You have to be joking."_

I gave her a chance, " _fine then. Will you be running, or dyeing?"_

" _I'll be doing neither by your hand."_

" _Death then. That's a shame"_ I kept my distance despite my words. I didn't know her, she didn't look like a threat, but I would rather not gamble with my life.

She noticed, " _Waiting for your hunting dog?"_

" _That would be rather cowardly of me, wouldn't it?"_

" _It's ok. I already pegged you for a coward. If you were really a threat you would have just attacked, not stopped and started a chat."_

In my younger days I wouldn't have hesitated to tear her to shreds. But I'd learned a few things in the past year. I would never admit it to Miles, but talking until your opponent started letting secrets slip did have its merits.

Let's see what she knows that I don't " _Bold words from someone with their back to a lake. Tell me, why are you even here? The man you're chasing down wouldn't last for more than a week as a host."_

" _A coward and an idiot. It must have been a miracle that you found someone as strong as your dog to be a host."_

" _What can I say, a foolish hound for a foolish hunter."_

" _That's putting it lightly. Even a blind man could see an augur when they find one."_

Come again?

She saw my silence, " _You didn't even notice did you? Ha! It's a wonder I was even worried."_

" _You're lying."_

" _What? Are you upset because you don't look past the end of your own nose? Do you even have a nose, I can't tell through all the trash you're carry with you."_

I hadn't even brought that much of the swarm with me " _Stooping to mock my appearance? You haven't even seen a full century, have you?"_

" _If you're anything to go by, age does not beget wisdom."_

This was nothing more than a whining child. She was so damned smug. It was an act though, at least mostly. I saw the bravado falter, the stench of ghouls had faded from the air. Miles would know I was here. Whether from being an extension of me, or from the dreamer infection goading him to a new meal, it didn't matter.

" _Wise or not, I've had enough talking."_ She was small and cut off from escape.

" _But I was having such a good time talking to a senile old man."_ She spoke proud words, but drifted closer to the water's edge.

Miles came through the brush, the rest of the swarm trailing close behind in a messy maelstrom.

I hated to admit it, but the taste of fear was the sweetest of all things when had through the dreamer infection, " _what's the matter? Are you afraid of a wounded hunting dog?"_

She didn't say anything back. I was a young idiot once I knew she was still looking for a way out.

" _Sorry dear, there's no one to hide in now. There's nowhere to run."_

Miles walked through my hollow body, I settled back into my place in his mind. My walls were caked over in dreamer filth. Without paying much attention I dusted it away, it was always disgusting when I came back from a trip outside. A real meal would be just the thing I needed to make myself feel better.

" _You wouldn't"_ she edged backwards as Miles took his time walking to the water's edge.

I gave her options. It's not my fault she was too proud for her own good. I sat back, taking my time stitching together a few flesh wounds here and there. Given the odds, Miles had made it out of there with remarkably little damage.

Somewhere outside the demoness screamed. It was something made of rage and fear. Miles used my arm to cut into her. I filled a wound in our side.

Occasional glances out of through our eyes showed me a one sided fight. I didn't have to raise a finger, there were no new wounds to heal despite the demonesses thrashing. I leaned back and enjoyed the show.

We had driven her knee deep into the water. In desperation she reached into Miles's mind to make a final attack on me.

I gave a few hearty laughs. To think, I had been worried about her.

The placid lake hissed, geysers of steam breaching the green surface. The brush and trees on the hill behind me burned to nothing more than twisted matchsticks. I let myself drift from Miles's shoulders, I would watch this from above. I didn't want to bother with getting caught in the crossfire.

" _Come down here coward!"_

I barely had time to speak between hissing laughter, " _And give up the view?"_

Miles struck again with all the force he could muster. The heavy blow narrowly missed the demoness, boiling water splashed up from where she stood a second ago.

With blinding speed she appeared behind Miles.

A mistake.

He took the cloud of swarm and wrapped himself in it, trapping her with him.

I felt his shoulder getting shredded while I watched. Damn it, I don't heal quite as well as I used to without the infection slowing me down. That's was going to be annoying.

A new flare of anger surged through Miles, he reached back with his natural arm. It was at a bad angle, but he gripped the back of her neck with nearly enough strength to snap it. He leaned forward and flipped her small body into the mud below.

She had started twisting her way off the ground when the steaming sludge wrapped around her limbs and neck.

It was a messy imitation of my wall of darkness, but it got the job done. Taking my time I drifted towards the ground, I wanted to get a good look at this. It wasn't often enough I got to put someone in their place.

There were no words anymore, just indignant screams and animalistic snarls. She hissed and bared teeth of chipped obsidian at me. The boiling earth squeezed from both sides. Void like orbs that passed for eyes bulged from her small face.

Time didn't work here, at least not like it did on the earthly plane. I drank in the demonesses suffering for what felt like years, when the ecstasy faded and the burnt world chipped away the sun hadn't moved from its spot in the sky. Blake's trail was still faintly noticeable.

I drifted back to my corner of the mind.

 _Are you done with your display?_

***Blakes POV***

Gravel shifted and dry twigs tugged at my cloths with each step that I took. I could still hear them, a few fast gray lumps moved in and out of sight. My breathing was heavy, uneven. Each mouthful of air went down like a breath of fire. I can't stop to rest now. They're still here.

I had found the lake a moment ago. I'm not putting a toe in that water. I learned last time that even a raft was a dangerous idea. I couldn't afford to let these things catch me.

I had to breathe. I crashed to a stop and leaned against a tree. I couldn't hear the things anymore, where were they? The shattered lens on my glasses didn't help, every time I moved to look light shifted in the glass and gave the illusion of movement. I almost got a full breath down before something snapped a twig in the woods.

Real. Imagined. I didn't know anymore and I don't think that I cared. I stumbled along, hoping that I wasn't getting myself lost in the desert. More disorientated running brought me back to the lake shore, though I wasn't near shacks anymore. There was something spanning the water in the distance. A bridge? Looks like it. I made for it, I needed to make space between me and them.

The wood was old and chipping under the angry desert sun. It creaked with each step I took, the throaty screeches started again.

How did they keep finding me?

I clutched my burning side and ran some more. The ground was steeper on this side of the water, I hope I don't trap myself against the cliff side.

My hands wouldn't close completely and it burned to put much weight on them, but I managed to pull myself up some stony shelves. Breathing hurt almost as much as running, I stood on the rocks and gulped air. From up high I could see them in the trees. Their faces weren't faces, just collections of twigs and teeth. They looked how the heretics had looked. Had those mad men seen some of these real creatures and tried to imitate the look?

Maybe, I didn't take the time to think about it too much. I wouldn't be hidden up here for long.

Still short of breath I pulled myself up a couple more boulders. It looked like there was flat ground, just a little further.

The raw skin covering my arm protested against me while I pulled myself up the final ledge. I barely made it, the effort left me on the sunbaked ground.

None of them had seen me climbing, had they? I strained to listen for their shrieks and growls. The only thing that reached my ears was the suffocating desert wind and my own labored breathing.

Ok, you took your second to rest. Get up. You need to hide. Slowly I scoped myself off the ground.

The dirt gave way to scraggly bushes, there was something just above the shrubs.

"What now?" It wasn't moving. I took the quiet second to try and rub the dirt off my glasses. The shattered frame crumbled away when I touched it. Well, at least I won't have to deal with the cracked glass.

I reset the battered frames. Half of my vision was a blur, but I could make out a chain link fence.

What was that doing out here? The town had been a place held together by dry wood and barbed wire. This was something far too modern to belong to Temple Gate.

There was a loose section next to one of the posts. Would they find me up here? Probably, I should at least keep moving. I ducked under the metal fence. It looked like there was a building a little further through the woods. This hadn't been here on that night, had it? I didn't come this way at least. There was no police tape, I don't think they had seen it either.

Please don't be a trap. Please don't let me be stumbling into a group of cultists.

I came to a brick building. The trees were a bit thicker here, as if someone had been tending to them. Most of the sunlight was caught by the leaves. The sky was barely visible through the dusty green. There was something tall and made of painted stele. A radio tower.

I had seen this, just not up close.

Miles had said that this belonged to Murkoff, or was at least related. Everyone who had worked there was dead and gone, maybe this place would be a ghost town?

With unease sitting heavy in my gut I searched for a door into the bunker-like building. I found a window first, that was good enough for me. Not taking the time to look behind me I climbed into the dim room.

A few wayward lights blinked from a panel of some sort. The shifting sunlight that came through the window wasn't quite enough to see by though. I felt across the cool stone wall for a switch. My hand found something and pulled. There was a distant click. How big was this place? It didn't look like much from outside.

The echoes of machinery droned through the building. Lights clicked on from somewhere in the back. Eventually the fluorescent bulbs above me flicked on as well. With the light to see by I made out a sign on the wall.

I just turned on the backup generator.

See, I was allowed to have some good luck sometimes.

Not wanting to be followed in I slid the window shut. The main door was locked from this side. I couldn't live out here forever, and this time there wouldn't be anyone looking for a downed helicopter. I dug my cellphone out from a pocket.

The screen had cracked and it didn't register half the touches I made to the screen. It hardly mattered, there was no reception out here.

Are you kidding me? I'm literally standing underneath a radio tower.

Actually, what even was this place?

Miles said human experimentation, the internet said mind control experiments. Two days ago I would have said bullshit, but now I'm not so sure.

I took a quick glance out the window, then to the hall that had been lighted by the generator turning on. It looked like there were stairs leading downwards. Staying up here wasn't going to do me any good, maybe there was some sort of emergency exit. Murkoff didn't seem like the type build a desert outpost and not add some hidden exit.

The stairs themselves were a bit steeper than I expected, they ended in a long straight hall with half a dozen doors on each side.

Please don't let there be any monsters down here.

I strained my ears to listen, but found nothing besides the hum of fluorescent lights and the generator.

I read the placards next to each door.

Mechanical, Electrical, Dorms, Mess hall, Records…

I didn't see an exit.

Damn it. Looks like the window was the only way out. I glared at the steps. How long could I stay here? There was probably food in the mess hall, a bed in the dorms. I could hide for a day or two and then try to flag down someone on the highway.

That was wishful thinking and I knew it. For all I knew I was being surrounded right now, I was out here without any medication too, it wouldn't matter if the monsters were real or not, they would be the death of me out here.

I can't worry about that now. Maybe Miles would find me?

Glowing eyes and whips of living darkness, demons with blades for limbs and no faces being torn to shreds without him lifting a finger. Maybe he was something to be hiding from too.

I leaned against the nearest door.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?

I read the placard across the hall, it read "records".

There wasn't a chance of me leaving here right now. A few words from the other day caught up to me: "don't you owe it to Lynn to try?"

"Damn it." I spoke to myself. Fine Miles, you win.

I let myself into the records room. Let's see if I can figure out how to stop the apocalypse.


	18. Never Easy With You

AN: Happy Friday everyone. Just want to give a thanks to the few of y'all who review, and a general thanks to everyone who reads. Have a nice weekend, and I hope you like the chapter:

***Miles's POV***

 **You did what!**

 _You're so temperamental, it's not that big of a deal._

I didn't bother going around the little shrubs in my path, instead I just crushed the plants under a boot. I had passed a dozen little spirits that had possessed the local wildlife. A crow with two tongues and five eyes watched me from a low hanging branch. A casual lash with the swarm whipped it away, leaving nothing but a few feathers to drift to the ground.

 **You're either with me or you're not.**

 _If it weren't for me the little she-devil would have gotten away. Or maybe she would have made a meal out of your friend. You should be thanking me._

The Walrider wasn't wrong, but I'll be damned if I was going to admit it.

 **Whatever, just fix my shoulder.**

 _You're lucky I'm even bothering. Really, with the amount of time I've spent healing you over the last year and a half I could have found a dozen new hosts._

 **You're stuck with me now.**

 _Don't remind me._

I had been walking near the lake for nearly fifteen minutes. Traces of terror dusted the trees and ground, I had finished off the rest of the monsters in town.

 _Ghouls._

 **Fine.**

I had finished off the last of the ghouls in town. Unless there was something I didn't know about that had tucked itself into a pack of coyotes, there shouldn't be anything chasing Blake through here.

 _Maybe it was one of the crows. The man frightens easily._

Another shower of feathers fell from a tree where I whipped away another corrupted bird.

 **What's with the sudden humanity? I thought you wanted to drag him into an alley and go nuts.**

 _I changed my mind._

 **Ok. What did the other demon tell you?**

I walked across a rickety old bridge, the lake narrowed into a river that flowed as rapids below. Note to self, do not go for a swim.

 _Who said she said anything?_

 **Oh please, I know you're hiding something from me.**

 _I'm always hiding something from you_

 **So you're admitting it.**

 _I'm admitting absolutely nothing. You already knew I was hiding something from you._

I dug my heel into a three headed snake and continued on

 **Real cute. What did she say?**

 _She said some words. There was laughter, you missed what was really a nice chat._

I came to the foot of a cliff face. The boulders that made up the wall looked vaguely climbable, a few thin blood smears and a growing layer of terror told me I was going the right way.

 **Finnish up with my shoulder and then spill it.**

 _And ruin the suspense?_

 **If it really makes you feel better we can play twenty questions.**

I had neither the time nor the patience to put up with this. But it didn't look like I could choose not to either. The worst of my shoulder was good enough, I started pulling myself up the cliff side. Damn, I didn't think Blake was in this good of shape.

 _What happened to all work and no play?_

 **I'm multitasking.**

Something in my arm popped by the time I made it to the first ledge.

 _Yes or no questions only._

Well, I should count my lucky stars, I was at least getting the chance to make a fool of myself this time instead of just being told no outright.

 **Do you still want to murder Blake?**

 _No._

I tucked my shoe into a foot hold and pushed myself higher.

 **Is that because of something the demoness said?**

 _Yes._

 **Did you know her?**

 _No._

I was getting somewhere. Slowly, sure, but I'll take what I can get.

 **Does the interest in Blake have anything to do with the hunt?**

 _...maybe._

 **Walrider. I'm already playing your game here, throw me a bone.**

 _You have no idea how tempted I am to make you jump from the cliff face._

What? Oh…

 **Haha, throwing my bones off the cliff. Have I mentioned I hate you?**

 _Likewise._

I made it to the second to last ledge.

 **But really though. Does this have anything to do with the hunt?**

 _Not exactly. But technically, yes._

Wow, that was helpful.

 **Ok, cut the crap. What's going on?**

 _That's not a yes or no question._

 **Are you going to keep acting like a whiny child?**

The faint birdsong of the canyon was covered over a rash of static.

 _Yes._

Ok. It's going to be like that. I pulled my way to the top of the rocks. There was a fence maybe twenty feet from the edge some of the mesh had been moved. I wasn't interesting in crawling over gravel. The rusted, brittle metal was thin enough to be short work for the swarm. I walked through the hole that grew in the fence.

The terror trail was starting to give way to a more general sense of dread. There better not be another fucking demon around here. I was having enough fun on my own.

As if to highlight my thoughts a four winged crow howled at me from a nearby tree.

I took the branch off the tree along with the bird.

 _And you call me childish._

 **I'll stop the temper tantrum if you tell me what you're hiding this time.**

 _It won't do much good to tell you anyways._

 **Maybe not. But I like to think we've moved past the point of keeping secrets from each other.**

 _Don't you remember that part, about five minutes ago, when we both agreed that I'm always hiding something from you?_

 **Look, I'm trying to extend an olive branch here. Do you want it or not?**

 _He's an augur._

 **Let's pretend, in a completely hypothetical situation, that I have no idea what that means.**

 _It means: I already told you it wouldn't do much good to tell you._

I came to a brick building, it looked like there was a light coming from the inside.

There was still an annoyed hint of static in my ears, I didn't pay it much mind while I tried the front door. Locked, predictable.

The little whip of swarm that I had been using to play exterminator with snaked its way between the door and its frame. It didn't take much effort to push the latch to the side and let myself in.

Bright fluorescents flooded the room.

"Blake? Where are you?" He was here all right, but the walls were so saturated with dread he could have been standing next to me and I wouldn't have been any more concentrated than it was now.

I didn't hear an answer, but there was only one way that he could have gone. A steep flight of stairs lead into the mountain. There was only one way to go; I went down the steps and came to a long hall with doors. Each one swung open as I passed them.

Nothing in mechanical, the dorms were empty. I tried to enter the room labeled records. The door opened an inch and then stopped.

"Blake open the door. Come on."

There was no noise from the other room

"You're being ridiculous." I could barely see through the gap between the door and the wall. It looked like he had pushed a filing cabinet to block the entrance.

"I can just move the cabinet you know." I spoke to the wall

There was a slight shuffle of papers, I think I heard a door close. Fine, have it your way. I probably used more of the swarm than was strictly necessary, but it slipped through the narrow opening and pushed the filing cabinet to the side. The door itself swung open on mostly silent hinges.

"Get out of the closet, I know you're in there." I'd used more than enough lockers as hiding places to not know he was in there.

"Go away." A flustered voice came from behind the steel door.

I leaned against the single desk that sat in the room. My hand nearly slipped on some loose papers as I settled into place.

"I could just rip the door off its hinges."

"…"

 _So violent. I love it._

 **Hold your damn horses, I'm bluffing.**

I could wait here all day, probably all through tomorrow and the next day too. I idly skimmed the pages on the table. A few peaked my interest, a file or two labeled Project Walrider had been emptied, their contents scarred across the wooden desk. A page mentioned something about the attack on Murkoff Corporate HQ in Salt Lake. The most recent paper work ended a month before the CEOs trial and murder, but there was still a hell of a paper trail.

"Been doing some light reading?" I asked the metal locker.

"Just… I don't want any trouble. I won't tell anyone anything."

"Look Blake, I've got bigger fish to fry than this. I'm sure you read all about the murders and a bunch of other fun details."

"They just listed names. Hundreds of names. I don't know them, I won't tell anyone."

He heard me, but he wasn't listening "Think about it, if I was really going to do anything to you I've already had plenty of opportunities to do it."

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

"Well, it's the best I got." I went around gathering some of the papers. I hadn't taken much time to comb through Murkoffs files while I had been on the war path, that was something that I'd been kicking myself for over the last half year. Maybe now I could get my head on straight, or at least get myself pointed in the right direction. With my luck there were another dozen places just like this one and Mount Massive scattered around the country.

I was cramming papers into a jacket pocket when the creaking of old hinges caught my attention. I glanced around just in time to see Blake hanging halfway out of his hiding spot.

"I take it you're feeling better?"

"No," a hand with most of the skin rubbed raw still clung to the locker door, "but I don't want to get left behind in the middle of the desert."

I went back to picking up pages, "better the devil you know, eh?"

"I never thought I would mean that literally."

"Calm down, I'm not that far gone."

 _Not right now at least. You could have fooled me back in the chapel._

 **Speaking of fooling people, do you mind telling me what the hell an augur is supposed to be? I've got an idea or two, but I also have a feeling that I'm impressively wrong.**

 _Aren't you always?_

 **Humor me.**

 _Only slightly. A word to the wise, do not let someone try to use him as a host._

 **Why?**

 _Reasons to numerous to list._

"Did you at least find the Rainmakers?"

I really wanted to be focusing on the Walrider right now, but I had almost forgotten about that…

"No, they were long gone after I got done with the ghouls"

I might need to blame a slip up in the future on the Rainmakers. It was best to maintain the lie.

There was a long pause from Blake, "…I'm just going to assume you're talking about the gray things."

"Yes, after I got done with the gray things the Rainmakers were nowhere to be found."

"Shit, so they're still out there."

"About that, I think we might have overstayed our welcome out here. We should get going."

Maybe one of these papers would talk about augurs or maybe even the hunt. At this point I wouldn't put anything past Murkoffs paperwork hoarding habit.

There was a seconds more hesitation from Blake,

"Oh come on, I don't bite. Not literally at least."

"You're not helping." He took a couple of steps towards me anyways.

"I never claimed to be good at being nice."

"At least you're honest."

Yep. So honest. Never have I ever told a lie.

I had to focus on not looking like a guilty son of a bitch. The static laughter coming from inside my head wasn't helping either.

 _Oh yes, such a paragon of virtue._

 **Cool it. You're a shifty bastard too.**

 _Yes, but I don't regret it._

***Blake's POV***

I don't know why I thought Miles would be any help. We were in the middle of the desert, my car was in pieces. Unless he could fly or something it was going to be a long trek through burning sands and stones before we found anyone.

"Do you have any idea where we're going?" I walked slightly behind him in the narrow hall.

"Phoenix is to the south, so we're going south."

"It's a ten mile walk before we even pass a gas station."

"It'll be fine. The sun should be setting soon, so don't worry about heat stroke."

"It's not the sun that I'm worried about" not completely at least.

We came to the main room, the door sat open slightly.

"Don't worry about the big bad boogie men either."

I bit my tongue. Those files were painful to read, they talked about everything so clinically. Most had gushed on about experiments happening in town, how this tower was driving the villagers to madness. Miles had been right to blame the corporation. I couldn't look away from the papers, they were too twisted not to see, like a train wreck or burning building. I wish I hadn't picked up the file labeled Project Walrider. I would have loved to go on being blissfully unaware of everything it had done.

The file had entries dating long after Mount Massive, there must have been a hundred pages filled with related reports. I hadn't had the time to read the other cases, but they said Miles was a murder. After watching the videos and seeing all of this, I believed it.

I took a step and ran into Miles's back.

"wha-?"

He had stopped in the doorway. I didn't want to look past him, it was going to be some other monster. Damn it. I just want to leave!

A hundred little noises grew in volume, joining together to become all I could hear. Miles took a slow step out the door. There was a jittering layer of black along every power line and tree branch.

Miles looked over his shoulder and motioned me to follow.

Not wanting to but needing to I took a couple of small steps after Miles.

I only had the one lens to see out of, it took me a second to realize that the black haze was made of birds. There must have been a thousand of them, looking down on us from above. Beady eyes, most of them black but a few that were silver, gold, or ruby red, followed our every movement.

"Do I want to know?" I had caught up to Miles.

"I don't even know" he spoke back to me quietly, like he expected them to be listening.

The flock followed for a few yards through the trees, sharp caws and the deafening rustle of feathers made talking impractical.

That's probably for the better, I had learned enough today.


	19. Knock Knock

AN: I hope everyones weekend went well. Thanks for reading and please enjoy the chapter:

***Blake's POV***

The sun had set hours ago and my feet begged me to stop. The only light to see by came from a street lamp at the corner, I wrapped a numbed hand around the knob of my front door. It was locked. My keys were still in my car.

I took a step back. I looked at the door, then at Miles.

He looked like a mess, I looked like a mess. It's a wonder we made it all the way here without getting stopped, we even managed to hitchhike a couple of miles. I didn't reach for my keys, they were stl stuck in my car. Miles got the message and took a step towards the door. It swung open a second later. I needed to find a way to keep him from messing with the locks, but it could wait.

I stumbled into the house and didn't bother with a light. I didn't bother changing out of my sweat drenched and bloodied shirt. My ripped and matted shoes stayed on my feet. My pain meds could wait, the blistered and irritated skin on my arm was only a distant worry.

I tripped over the couch and fell haphazardly onto the cushions.

This was good enough.

***Miles's POV***

I didn't even have time to lock the door before Blake was passed out on the couch. He wasn't waking up anytime soon, but I still left the light off. I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, even now that we were inside. Turning on the lights would be a beacon saying that somebody was home.

I took off my battered sunglasses, how they had managed to stay clipped onto my shirt collar through the day was anybody's guess. At anyrate I didn't need them now, I set them on the kitchen counter and pulled out the papers I had collected from the tower.

Ok, lets see what these have to tell me.

 _It's just going to be more of the same technical wording and ignorance that was in Mount Massive._

 **Maybe, but that's more than I'm going to get from you.**

The pages I had with me took up most of the space on the table. I pulled out my own notebook, there might be something worth writing down.

The first few files were mostly about the effects of the tower. It was some sort of beacon. I had to read between the lines, none of the files said anything outright about conjuring demons. More than likely, Murkoff didn't know exactly what they were doing.

The feedback loop that had been mentioned in the paper Blake found was talked about in more detail here:

…According to Dr. Cameron's testing it appears that the radiometric signal of the tower is magnified above the town, Dr. Cameron suggests that this may be due to the presence of a large number of living people…

They were half right. Hell was already about to break loose, I'm thinking it was the tower that pushed them over the edge.

 _The desert always was a nice place to visit._

 **Didn't you spend your time in the woods?**

 _I claimed the forest as a home, but deserts were always the easiest place to connect to the earth._

 **Normally I would tell you to spare me the lecture, but what?**

 _Deserts, mountains, and caves. Think about it, in all the myths and legends you people have come up with they always include at least one of these._

 **So there was already something fucky going on in the desert and Murkoff just made it worse.**

 _I was trying to be a bit more eloquent, but yes. I told you, the hunt has been in the making for years. They just sped up the inevitable._

 **Nothing's predestined, it hasn't happened yet so I can still stop it. Why does the desert matter?**

 _You can't stop it, but the hope is entertaining. Believe it or not, plants are annoying. They're nothing but dead space that aren't good for anything. When you find something alive in the desert, you know it can be used as a host._

 **By that math cities would be…**

 _Ideal. All of the little towns we've gone through are mine, after today so is Temple Gate. Claiming a city this large is going to be bloody..._

 **Would you stop with that already?**

 _I'm not going to just roll over and be swept up in the hunt. I've made that clear._

I slid the papers to the side and leaned over the table. This was getting bad. I must have been through a dozen towns hunting down monsters. Were there packs of fiends stalking those towns too? They had followed me to Phoenix. And then there was that other thing in Temple Gate. I have no idea how long it had been there, but it had gathered enough ghouls to nearly rip me to shreds. And what was with the sudden interest in Blake?

The walls were closing in.

Fuck it, I had always bitten off more that I could chew. Let's try something stupid.

I pushed away from the table and stood up straight, **Ok, new plan.**

 _This should be good._

 **We're taking it down from the inside.**

 _Go on…_

 **You've been going behind my back and claiming a bunch of land as your own. I'm steering into the rut. If this really is our territory, then we're setting some rules in here.**

 _That's not how any of this works_

 **Tough shit, I'm changing the rules.**

There was a bit of static laughter. It wasn't harsh or mocking like I'd heard so many times before, this was kinder. Like something you would hear from across a pub or at a gathering of old friends.

 _There you go again. Off on your high horse. We won't be dealing with a pack of fiends or one demoness, there will be thousands of them flooding the streets._

 **You wanted to join in the hunt.**

 _I wanted to tow the party line and walk out with more than I walked in with, not pick a fight with every being in this plane and the next._

 **Deal with it. You keep saying I can't stop the hunt, so I'll take it over instead.**

 _You have a death wish._

I huffed, **Wouldn't that make things simple.**

There was a moment's pause. Only the slightest hints of static kept me company, then, _we've been foolhardy before and although I have no interest in saving the world you've made me curious._

 **I never wanted to save the world either, I only wanted to stop people's bullshit. It looks like those are the same thing now.**

 _It's suicidal._

 **So is everything else I've ever done.**

 _I have been in exile for a few centuries. The look on their faces might be worth it._

I took that as the Walrider agreeing to go along with my plan.

My mouth was writing checks that my body couldn't cash, but it had always done that.

 **Now that we're on the same page, what's up with Blake?**

 _That's not a yes or no question._

I didn't move from my spot in the kitchen.

 _What happened to your sense of humor?_

 **Apparently you stole it.**

 _Right. Well, I suppose not telling you would do more harm than good this time around. Augur doesn't really translate well, calling him a prophet doesn't quite fit. There's very little that's special about him right now, but if someone tried to use him as a host they will be able to see everything. Past, present, and future. If your hair brained scheme is going to work, you cannot let that happen._

I looked over the bar and to the back of the couch. He had crashed onto the cushions and not moved since, the long walk hadn't bothered me, but combined with the attack at Temple Gate it drove Blake to exhaustion.

 **Is there a reason behind that that I need to know about?**

 _Not really, they're fairly random. More than likely it was just coincidence, being born in the right place at the right time._

Great, that means there could be more people like that just running around out there.

 **Of course, is there anything else I need to worry about? Are psychics and witches a thing? Am I going to start finding X-men around every corner?**

 _You're such a drama queen. That's unlikely at best. I've probably seen two true psychics in as many millennia._

At least that was a silver lining.

 **One more thing, you said there was something off about him.**

 _There's very little-_

 **That's not nothing. Don't try to pull a fast one on me.**

There was an annoyed buzz while the Walrider was deciding whether or not to actually talk to me.

 _It's nothing you haven't seen already. He sees things, it would be more useful if he wasn't hallucinating half the time. Like I said, it's basically nothing._

I gave that a second of thought. He had seen the demon in the alley way before I had the chance to go after it. I just assumed that was normal.

 **But Waylon and everyone else could always see you.**

 _I've been carrying around beads of lead since before we met, and I've been going out of my way to be seen._

Ok, it had me there.

 **I take it I've been seeing things because of you and the infection.**

 _Obviously._

I would have to find a way to make sure nobody decided to take Blake out for a joy ride.

 _Well, you did kill all of my fiends._

 **I'd rather not go painting the rainmaker symbole around his house.**

 _More than one word exists in my language._

Blake hadn't moved from his place on the couch. Looks like I would be doing some redecorating tonight.

***Blake's POV***

The lids of my eyes felt like sandpaper. Come to think of it, I probably had sand in my eyes. I didn't have long to take stock of the dozens of aches and pains, there was someone pounding on my front door.

Monsters? Demons? Girl Scouts? What day was it? It took longer than I expected to sit up. The banging on the door was getting louder.

"Mister Langermann? Blake! Are you in there?" a deep and faintly familiar voice was coming from the other side.

I could barely see. A blistered and raw hand moved to readjust my glasses, the battered frame broke when I touched it.

Typical.

The knocking continued, "Hello?"

I stumbled when I stood, my knees threatened to give out and my feet begged me to get off of them. I managed to turn to face the shaking door after some effort.

There was someone standing in my kitchen.

It was Miles. I looked at him, then at the door, and then back again.

I think he shrugged and motioned around the room.

I tried to look around but the walls were a blur, I might as well be blind without my glasses.

The door rattled some more. I didn't have time to worry about the house. I knew that voice, it was the detective. I couldn't just leave him out there, if he was banging on my door like that something must be wrong. Miles would have to worry about himself, I hobbled over to the door.

Only one of the deadbolts was set, even so it took some fumbling to unlock it.

I cracked the door open. It was almost painfully bright out.

"Blake? Thank god you're here. Are you ok?"

It was definitely the detective, I blinked a few times against the light and didn't let the door open much.

"I'm fine." What was he doing here?

"Can I come in?" He leaned towards the door.

I went to shut it just a bit. I could barely stand, I did not want to explain what Miles was doing here.

"uhh… we can just talk out here." I used the door knob as a brace while I did my best not to limp outside. It must be the afternoon by how bright and warm it had gotten.

"Oh my god, are you ok? What happened to you?"

My right side had scabbed over while I was asleep, the rest of my skin had been burned by the sun on my walk back. Who knows how many little cuts I had gotten from crawling over the gravel and broken glass.

"…I fell down." I fell down a hill. It wasn't a lie… mostly. "what are you doing here?" I tried not to trip over my words.

"What am I..? Blake, you've been missing since yesterday. The station got a call half an hour ago asking for someone to come by and do a wellness check. I was in the neighborhood and there's blood on your front door."

What? I looked back down at the door handle and then at my hand. I had lost a couple layers of skin, more than a few cuts oozed when I moved. I must have ripped a couple open last night when I tried to open the door.

"I'm fine. Really." I stared at the sidewalk.

"Where's your car Blake?" Detective Morris kept his steady gaze on me.

I hadn't thought that far ahead.

"…"

"Sunday night I got a call saying someone matching your description was walking around the apartments where the rainmaker crime scene had been. Then yesterday morning we got a letter from the rainmakers and you skipped town. Now you're car is missing and you didn't get that banged up from a fall. What happened?"

I kept my mouth shut. What could I even say in a situation like this? It's not what it looks like, I was just going monster hunting because the apocalypse is about to happen? By the way I went with some other guy you've never met that is, surprise, possessed by some kind of demon?

That sounded insane.

"Look Blake, I really don't want to see anything bad happen to you. You've always done right by me, but agent Sorenson has been looking into you. Something about that house call she made didn't sit right. I don't know what you're doing, but if there's anything going on - and I mean anything - you need to tell me. Ok?"

I did what I could to shrink into the door. The only thing I wanted to do was crawl into a ball and go back to sleep, not lie to the police. And, was I being threatened? Miles had openly said he was using me as bait and he had looked like a caged animal yesterday in the car. He had killed too many people to count what was stopping me from being another name on his hit list?

Like it or not, talking to Morris wasn't going to help any of that. The people in charge had never really been any help.

"No. No I'm fine." I couldn't convince a sailor that water was wet, I don't know how I was going to get detective Morris to go anywhere.

"We can go down to the station if you don't want to talk here." He was offering an olive branch, I should take it.

I stopped myself. I could barely handle talking here, going to the police station was just going to give agent Sorenson another reason to look at me more.

Maybe I should go? They couldn't help much, but it would be a way to take a break for a few hours. I needed a break.

Burying my head in the sand had never worked, it wouldn't work now.

"I'm just going to stay here. I'm fine." I put a hand back on the knob. I just wanted to sleep off the events of yesterday.

Morris opened his mouth to protest, but he was distracted by the buzzing of his phone. A quick glance at the screen left him mumbling something I couldn't make out. He looked back up at me, "I'm not going to force you to go anywhere, but Blake. You have my cell number, if anything is going on, you call me. Ok?"

"Sure. Of course."

He had taken a couple hurried steps back to his car at the curb, "I mean it. You call me."

I looked at the blurring shape of the detective and nodded in acknowledgement before slipping back inside.

The door hadn't even clicked shut when Miles started talking,

"What did the fuzz want?"

I half-heartedly set the locks in their place, "I think Mitchell called the police. He gets worried about me."

"Sounds like you've got a good friend in him."

I finished with the last chain, "he's a bit overbearing, but it's nice to be thought of."

The room was still a blur, Miles wasn't much more than a tall shape in my kitchen.

"Can you grab my spare pair of glasses, they should be in the drawer to the left." I asked him.

"Sure" I heard a drawer slide open and shut, I limped to the bar.

He handed me the frames, the sunburned skin on my arms whined and stung every time I moved. These were an old pair, the prescription wasn't quite right and it was a little difficult to make out anything too far in the distance. Despite that I could see my walls just fine.

There were papers everywhere.

Each one had some strange shape drawn onto it, some looked like nothing more than scribbles, most were some variation of a triangle or crescent.

"Miles, what the hell is all of this?"

He told me he could have killed me anytime he wanted. Maybe he wanted to now. I should have gone with detective Morris. Shit. Shit, I fucked up.

"It looks a lot worse than it actually is. Trust me."

I did not trust him.


	20. I Don't Want to Hear It

AN: I hope everyone's Halloween was fun, I kind of feel like I'm missing an opportunity by not posting a Halloween chapter, but oh well please enjoy the chapter:

***Miles POV***

"It looks a lot worse than it actually is. Trust me."

 _I don't think that he trusts you._

 **Thank you for your keen insight, I never would have guessed.**

There was no way he was going be able to outrun me like that, he could barely stand. I held my hands up as a non-threat.

"I know it's not what you want to hear, but this city is about to become a war zone. You do not want to get caught up in the fighting."

"You're right; I didn't want to hear that. I'll leave town if that's what you're saying. I won't tell anyone anything. Or I'll tell everyone whatever you want. I mean… just." He was rambling again, "look. You spent days guilting me into helping you. I hate to say it out loud but I do owe it to Lynn to tell people about this. I won't say a word about you though. I swear."

Walked out of the kitchen and did my best not to loom over him, "yeah, I hate to tell you this, but I can't let you go."

He tried not to wince while he slowly backed away, "Ok. I'm bait. Sure, that's fine." He was looking for a way out of here, I was doing a bang up job of not looking like a threat.

"Not anymore you're not" if what the Walrider had said was true I absolutely could not afford to let someone use Blake as a host.

That was the wrong thing to say. He tried to run, but didn't get more than a step away before I grabbed his arm.

He yelped when I gripped the sunburnt skin.

"Sorry about that. I've got some explaining to do, I know." I directed him to the couch, he landed less gently that I had meant.

"I don't know what I did, just don't kill me." A scabbed over section of his arm had split in the commotion and oozed a little.

In hindsight it's a good thing I hadn't let the demoness get any further than that.

"You didn't do anything. I'm not going to kill you." I sat on the other end of the couch.

See, we're just having a chat. I'm not doing anything threatening. Everything is fine.

Blake looked at me like he wouldn't believe a thing I said.

Oh well.

"So, good news, I'm not going to use you as bait any more. So you got that going for you, which is nice" I was never good at the cheering up game.

"What's the bad news?" He had pushed himself as far away as he could without leaving the couch.

"It's not as bad as it sounds" it was worse.

"What is it Miles?"

"Long story short, if you get possessed the demon will be omniscient and impossible to stop."

"That doesn't make any since."

"Also, most of the hallucinations probably haven't been hallucinations." Quick like a band-aid. See, it wasn't that bad.

"What are you talking about?" he looked at me like I had grown a second head.

"Ok, maybe some of them were," he had gotten his bell rung pretty hard, "but my point still stands."

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"What?" was the only thing he managed to stammer out.

Oh boy, was he in for a story.

***Blakes POV***

"I'm going to be straightforward here. I don't have all the details,"

That makes two of us.

"But," he went on, "for whatever reason, you plus a demon, equals bad things. Got it?"

No, I don't have it.

"Why though?" I wasn't connecting the dots, not completely at least, "and what are you saying about the hallucinations?" I had been dealing with those off and on ever since grade school. They had only just gotten worse since the night at Temple Gate.

"There's no real reason why, not that are worth worrying about at least. As for the hallucinations, if you were having any before Temple gate I would put money on them being real."

Every kid had imaginary friends, my parents worked late, I was lonely and confused. That was completely normal. The nightmares about Father Lautermilch though… No. I had seen things. I was a kid, that was just a way to cope.

"That's ridiculous" I couldn't let what Miles was saying be true. All this supernatural bull shit was brand new as far as I was concerned. It had to be.

"I told you it would be hard to hear, and I'm not going to give you a speech about how you need to believe me. Just, if you're seeing something – even if you think it isn't real – tell me."

"No, I would have noticed something like actual demons following me around all my life."

"I'm not saying you were being followed, I'm just saying you might be now."

My living room was covered in symbols, there was a killer sitting on my couch, all hell was breaking loose outside. Telling myself that half of it wasn't real was the only thing I had.

"I've been hallucinating for months. That's it."

Miles shifted a bit on the couch, "Yes, you have been. But not everything has been a hallucination. Some of that was real. I don't know how much exactly but-"

"Doctor Benson even said it was perfectly fine to be seeing things. It was coping."

There was nothing going on beyond that. I had always imagined monsters to deal with things. That was just how I worked.

"Damnit Blake, listen to me. The apocalypse is happening, if you get possessed it happens even faster, you have the ability to see monsters coming even when I'm not around. That's a silver lining, take it. You can deal with the emotional fall out later!"

Miles had stood from the couch, I looked down at the gray cushions. I can't just ignore something like that. How many times had I almost died? I had been a creative kid, how many nightmares had been real world battles with demons? How human had Father Lautermilch been? Could I have done something to save Jessica? I should have told someone, I should have talked about what I had seen. Maybe then…

I don't know what I expected. I could have all the tools in the world, but my life would still fall apart.

Miles loomed above me. Was I a prisoner now? Or a partner in crime? Who am I kidding, it didn't really matter. I moved a little, some sandy dirt still clung to my cloths.

"I'm taking a shower." I needed one. More importantly, I needed a moment to myself.

I winced as I stood and I took my time limping across the room.

***Miles's POV***

All things considered, that hadn't gone as bad as I expected.

 _I was hoping he would cry a little._

I tuned out the Walrider and sat back on the couch. Somewhere in the back of the house a door shut and a shower turned on. The papers sagged against the wall from on top of the picture frames where I had tucked them. More than a few were recognizable from the asylum. What had father Martin known?

I shouldn't worry about that now. He was dead and gone, his ashes had long ago been ground into the dirt on Mount Massive.

Fucking mountains man.

The TV clicked on and switched over to the news. The remote sat undisturbed on the coffee table.

It was five o'clock. The local station was on.

Sports, something about local business, there was a heat wave rolling in, it was all garden variety noise until halfway through the program.

"…law enforcement officials have released a statement regarding the rainmaker murders. Yesterday afternoon the police and FBI received a letter that has been confirmed to be from the Rainmakers. There were no clues as to the identities of…"

Well, it looks like my letter was making quite a splash.

I left the TV on and went to the kitchen. The Murkoff papers were still scattered on the counter, they didn't have much in them that I didn't already know. I dug through the drawers for a pen.

One of the more empty papers became a makeshift notepad,

"I'm going out for a minute. Stay in the house, I'll be back."

Sitting around in here was starting to get on my nerves. There had been something wrong ever since we got back to town last night, and I wasn't keen on sitting around and letting all hell brake loose.

 _Don't tell me the birds were getting on your nerves._

 **Everything's getting on my nerves.**

I was about to walk outside when I remembered that the shoulder of my jacket was torn to shreds. Hastily, I stepped into the laundry room. There was a hoodie sitting on top of the washer. What's a little theft between friends?

I swapped my heavier coat for the thinner cloth. Heat wave or no, I didn't like losing the warmer layer.

Making sure my sunglasses were in place I stepped outside and locked the door behind me. Nothing's getting in there.

I took a look up and down the street. A couple of fat black birds sat on the street lamp. There wasn't anyone walking along the road, a quick lash with a thin bit of swarm left nothing behind besides a few feathers.

 **I don't like the way they were looking at me.**

 _Well you had better get used to it. More than just a few spirits slipped through the rift in Temple Gate._

 **That's what I'm worried about.**

There was something off in the air. If I was lucky, it was just my paranoia.

I had never been very lucky.

***Blake's POV***

The hot water had started turning cold. I guess that was just the house telling me I had been in here for far too long.

I shut off the water and started getting dressed. By some miracle I didn't have any large blisters on my feet, though they were swollen from my long journey yesterday. My arms and face were red with a deep sunburn, that would probably start peeling. What could best be described as a slight road rash went up my right arm where that tar had clung to me. I fished around in the cabinets for some Band-Aids or gauze.

What I had was mostly left over from the days after I had gotten my hands stitched back together. I put the remaining globs of medical cream over the worst of my arm and wrapped the whole thing in bandages.

That looked suspicious as all get out, but at least it wouldn't get infected that way.

I didn't bother with shoes quite yet. Instead I went back into my ruined living room. The TV was on, it was the local six o'clock news. Miles was nowhere to be found. Of course not. I didn't pay his absence much attention. I wasn't very hungry, stress had eaten away any appetite I might have, but it had been a day since I'd had anything. Common sense took me into the kitchen.

The coffee pot was my first stop. I plugged in my cell to charge too, it had died at some point yesterday. There were papers all over my counter, most had Murkoffs letter head across the top of them. One had a note written in block capitals,

""I'm going out for a minute. Stay in the house, I'll be back."

Miles. He really had done a number on the walls. Symbols that I didn't want to know about hung on every part of the wall not already taken up by crime scene photos or pictures of Lynn. This place looked like the cave of a mad man.

Mad or not, I still need to eat. I dug a TV dinner out of the freezer and tossed it into the microwave.

While I waited I poured a cup of coffee and got my phone turned on.

Nine missed calls.

Seven of them were from Mitch, one from Detective Morris, and the last one from an 800 number.

I called Mitchell back, he was probably driving himself crazy.

The phone only range twice before he picked up.

"Hello? Blake is that you? Where have you been, man?"

"I'm at home. Did you call the cops?" Detective Morris had said as much.

"Of course I did. You didn't come back from lunch and didn't show up today either. Where were you? I went by your house yesterday but your car was gone."

He really was a good friend, "I, uh… I went out for a drive. Don't worry about it."

The microwave went off. I took my meal to the couch. I set the hot plate down but didn't have the chance to sit before something started tapping at my window.

"Of course I'm going to worry about you. I just left work, I'm headed over to your place. You sound like you need some company."

I watched the curtains. The tapping continued at even intervals.

"Hey, do you hear me? Blake?"

Quietly I took a step or two towards the wall. I leaned to the side to get a look out the window without having to move the curtains or blinds.

There was a fat crow with beady red eyes looking at me from the other side of the glass.

"Hello!" Mitchel was still on the phone.

"Oh, right. Um… my place is kind of a mess right now. You probably don't want to see it."

The crow cawed, there were more eyes in its mouth.

I backed away from the window.

"Are you sure? Is everything ok?"

"I'm fine. Really." I tried, and failed, not to let my voice waiver, "you should go home. I'll call you later."

"If you say so. And you better be at work tomorrow. I've been trying to talk some sense into Frank but he's not a patient guy."

"I know. Thank you, you're a good friend." I hung up the phone.

Dinner could wait. I went to the office in the back of the house. There was a camera sitting on a tripod, I picked the whole thing up and went back to the living room. My laptop had been in my car, there was no way I was getting that back. Everything that had been on it was backed up on the desktop in the office; I would deal with that headache later.

In the meantime I set the tripod up to face the couch.

I was never a good reporter, but watching the world burn through a camera was something I was always good at.


	21. Cabin Fever

AN: Hello and happy Friday, I hope everyone's week as nice. On a side note, November is national write a novel month, so if you've been looking for an excuse to write a story or something there you go. Anyways thanks for reading and please enjoy the chapter:

***Miles's POV***

I had found myself picking away at deformed birds and lizards during my walk. Every time I killed one little monster another three crawled out from under a rock or came flying in from a nearby roof.

 **If you have anything to do with this, stop it.**

 _So hasty to blame me, these aren't me, I never did like keeping beasts._

 **Well, they've been around here ever since we were at Temple Gate.**

 _Hm… let's see, the demoness did have to carve a rift to earth. There were three dozen or so ghouls running around. The whole town had been mad for some time. Did I mention that there's this thing happening, it's called the wild hunt?_

 **Ok smart ass, you could have just said you weren't doing anything.**

 _You could have asked instead of jumping to conclusions._

I leaned against the gas station I had come to, a lizard with deer's antlers growing from its back skittered over my foot.

 **I'll ask real nicely then, who's been watching us? These things have been giving me the creeps.**

 _If I had to sit back and list every beast master that would try to steal land out from under me we would be here for years._

 **Think real hard. There's over a million people in and around this city. I'm not about to to let it turn into a killing ground.**

 _Are you still trying to stop the hunt, or are you going to try to lead it? Because you can't do both._

I'd rather just join in honestly. No, none of that. I leaned against the hot brick wall, I was running out of time. It was three days until Friday and I had only barely managed to deal with the rift in Temple Gate, even then it hadn't slowed things down like I was hoping. I couldn't be everywhere at once, with my luck there were probably other rifts around Mount Massive and the Zeichner facility.

 **Fine. What's your master plan?**

 _Well my idea involves turning this city into a hunting ground, so apparently it's not welcome._

 **Skip that part, what's the rest of it.**

 _That was it, just be the biggest killer in town and everyone else will fall in line. Well, aside from a few challengers. I'm sure a few more will be stepping up after that fiasco in Temple Gate, especially when word spreads that there's an Augur here._

Nothing ever came easy, did it?

 **That's assuming that shit starts here. I'm not sitting around and waiting to the hunt to blow into town.**

Who knows how many cities would get themselves torn apart before then? I've been watching the news, the whole damned world seemed on edge. Sure, there were always a few powder kegs around the world, but it had been suspiciously dangerous lately.

 _Well…_

 **Well, what?**

 _Well. We could just start it ourselves._

 **No. That's a terrible idea.**

 _I don't think that you have a better one._

I didn't, but taking the nuclear option wasn't really an option.

But, what if that straining layer keeping the monsters away broke somewhere I couldn't get to it? What was there to stop all hell from breaking loose in Japan, China, or India? There were millions of people there, all of them thousands of miles away. The same was true for Europe. Paris, London, Berlin. Hell, even if something happened a state over I wouldn't get there in time to do anything about it. New York could turn into a graveyard in a minute, Los Angeles would have to find a new name.

I didn't have the luxury of being picky right now, a controlled catastrophe might be the best case scenario.

 **Speaking completely hypothetically, what would that take?**

 _I never opened a rift on my own, it was always much easier to ride in on someone's coat tails, but I'm sure we could find the Old Snake and ask him._

The demon from the alley way, **Yea, what's plan B? I don't feel like making a deal with the devil.**

 _You've already got me. There's no reason to shy away from him, he's relatively harmless as long as you don't let him stick around to talk for too long. Besides, once the hunt starts he would be the least of your worries._

 **That's just another reason why I don't want to do it.**

 _Fine then, I guess we'll wait until Friday. I hope the rift opens in the North West, I always did like the weather there._

This was turning into a mess. I started the week trying to stop the hunt and now I was considering starting it myself.

No, I'm not that far gone. Even for me, that was too much.

I watched the parking lot from my place on the wall. A couple of deformed black birds sat on the building across the street. They were watching, waiting for the inevitable. I was almost too busy staring at the birds to notice a car narrowly miss another one that was stopped at a gas pump. One of the drivers went to town on his horn before getting out of the car.

He came up to the man pumping gas and started yelling. I didn't have time for this, I pushed off from the wall and made to leave. I hadn't left the parking lot before the two of them came to blows. The fat black birds came closer, cawing like fans watching a game of football. A store clerk ran out of the building with a baseball bat. The commotion made me stop and watch, a few more heavy birds drifted in on the wind.

 _Tick tock. Even the normal people are starting to feel it in the air._

Damn it.

The three of them were going at it on the pavement. The car away from the pump was still running. I kept an eye on the trio while I had a little sliver of the swarm make its way to the car. One of them had fallen to the ground when I put the car into reverse. The man who started it broke into a sprint when he noticed his truck sliding back to the road.

The crows cawed in protest that their entertainment was fading away.

The store clerk swung his bat at the other driver, only to stop when he noticed someone running out of the store with a couple of cases of beer.

Road rage, assault, theft.

 **I don't think that the hunt need us to be helping it along.**

 _Maybe, but I can dream._

I recalled the small cloud of nanites before anyone noticed them. With my luck there would be a mob trying to break into the house.

***Blake's POV***

The growing sounds from outside were getting harder to ignore.

"...and that is the truth about what happened in Temple Gate, Arizona."

I spoke in the camera, trying my best to talk over the taping on my windows and the cawing of crows. There were so many things that needed to be said, the most important of which would never be believed. I couldn't put out video saying that the apocalypse was coming, the second I did it would invalidate everything I ever did. I could complain about Murkoff, but it wouldn't do much good, they were all dead.

No, I had to tell someone about temple gate. At least then maybe someone somewhere would see something similar happening and try to stop it.

Maybe people were better than I gave them credit for, maybe somebody somewhere could do something.

That was wishful thinking and I knew it.

I didn't have long to wallow in my sorrow before I heard the garage door being forced open. Quickly, I staggered to my feet. What was that? Shit, shit, where could I hide? The metal creaked and groaned again, a couple of distorted caws came from beyond the door.

On sore feet I hobbled to the back of the house. The cawing slowly faded away, occasionally being punctuated by angry squawks. I had barely made out of the living room when the sound had stopped completely.

The door into the laundry room opened. I rounded the corner into the back hall.

"Hello? Blake, where'd you go?"

I wobbled to a stop. Damn it, it was just Miles coming in from where ever he had gone.

I tried my best to pretend that I hadn't been on the edge of a panic attack, "I, uh… I'm right here."

The walk back to the living room took much longer than the walk to the hall.

He was coming out of the kitchen when I entered the room.

"Are you wearing my jacket?"

"Oh, right. That. Mine's ripped to shreds, hope you don't mind."

I did mind, "not at all, it's fine."

"Good. You didn't try to leave, did you?"

"No"

Was I a prisoner here? He hadn't threatened me, not yet at least. I braced myself against the wall. I didn't want to ask, but I had to know.

"Miles, be honest with me. Am I being held hostage in my own home?"

He took a step towards the couch, answering over his shoulder as he went, "No, what gives you that idea?"

"My house is surrounded by a flock of monster birds and you left me a note saying not to go outside."

"You're right. I left a note. If I was really trying to keep you here I wouldn't leave a piece of paper as the only thing to keep you from leaving."

"Ok then," I don't think I was convinced. Miles gave a good reason, but he wouldn't look me in the eye, "what do we do next?"

He had been trying for days to get me to help him out. Well, here I was. There was nothing else to do that mattered.

There was an uncomfortable pause, "I guess we keep going after the Rainmakers. Temple Gate didn't work out. I would put money on them having come back to town."

He still wouldn't look at me.

"How do I help if I can't leave the house?"

"Call in sick at work, comb the internet for old case files. If you have to leave I'll be right behind you, just in case."

Right. As a bodyguard. A friend. Definitely not as a prison warden.

"Sure."

It wasn't very late, but the weight of yesterday still grinded against my shoulders. I had said my piece, the tapes were on the camcorder that sat facing Miles. Tomorrow would probably bring some new hell.

I turned around to go back down the hall.

"I'm going to bed. Try not to let anything murder me."

***Miles's POV***

Blake staggered down the hall with little ceremony.

I let him go, there had been a little spark to him when I got back. Some tiny bead of conviction. I didn't want to snuff it out.

There was a camera facing the couch. It was still on. Idly I picked it up and clicked through the recordings.

They were all interview style ramblings from Blake. He wasn't much of a news caster, but he got his point across. Most of my drawings on the wall were looking pretty sad, not that I could do much to fix them.

The flock outside had grown through the day. After I left the gas station I passed an uncomfortable number of brawls and car crashes.

If I really wanted to I could probably find a local late night news show, but I have a feeling it would just be more of the same. The rustling of feathers from outside grew louder by the minute. It was Tuesday, the Walrider expected the hunt to start by the end of the week. What did that mean? Friday, saturday? Maybe Thursday?

I'd been slowing things down, but it hadn't been enough. I'd gotten an ultimatum every couple of weeks, but I'd always been able to find the nearest rift and patch things together before any permanent damage was done.

The damage in Temple gate was too deep, I'd been too late.

Damn it. The paper work on the table didn't say anything useful. Murkoff thought they were just driving a few people in a forgotten town to madness, but they had fucked us all over. Would any of this even be happening if they hadn't been abusing forces that they didn't understand?

If Warnicke never found the Walrider in the little German monastery, would Murkoff have ever gotten that far with the project? Would the dreamer infection ever had made it out of wherever these monsters were coming from?

One company, countless lives lost.

There was a tapping on the window next to the front door. The caws sounded closer to barks, I didn't bother getting a look at the deformed birds.

One company, countless lives.

A couple of years ago I was digging through paper work looking for anything I could get on Murkoff, a year ago I was cutting a bloody path through a bunch of corporate drones. Now where was I? Playing damage control for something that even I had to admit was too much? Hunting down monsters and patching leaks that were only a symptom of a bigger problem?

Shit. I couldn't give up, not when there were so many lives at stake. I can't give up, but there's nothing that I can do.

 _Having a moment of doubt?_

 **No… yes.**

 _And so the brave face starts to chip away._

 **Calm down, I'm not about to give up just yet.**

 _What's your plan than? Because those last few thoughts sounded a lot like giving up._

I didn't have a plan, not a very good one at least, **I hate to ask but how do I get ahold of your friend?**

 _The Snake? Are you actually taking my advice and starting the hunt early?_

 **Sorry, I've got other plans.**

 _Like?_

 **Since when have we been honest with each other?**

 _I could just pry the information out of whatever corner you've put it in._

 **True, but I thought you liked surprises.**

 _Not when they might end with me murdering the Old Snake._

 **Don't worry about it. If everything works out we'll have bigger fish to fry than him. And, assuming I don't get myself killed, you will walk out of this with much more than you came in with.**

 _You have my attention._


	22. Harebrained Scheme

AN: Hello again everyone, I'm kind of taking the story in a different direction here let me know if you take issue with anything, or if you happen to like anything in particular, either way I'll be grateful for any feedback. More importantly, thank you for reading and please enjoy:

***Blake's POV***

I fell down a long flight of stairs, landing heavily on my shoulder. I had just enough time to see a tall and twisted figure staring down at me before I stumbled to standing and sprinted away. The hall around me grew darker for every step I took, I could hear that thing following close behind. There had to be a way out. There was always a way out.

I couldn't see, there were more noises coming from behind me. They were getting closer. I blindly looked over my shoulder finding nothing but unyielding shadows. I took more frantic steps only for the ground to drop out from under me.

The growing cries and shrieks melted into the ringing of an alarm. It was a dream. I knew it was a dream. It had to be. I flailed around in the dark, eventually hitting something solid. The shadows slowly melted away, the room wasn't dark any more. The ringing was from my cell phone. I let it timeout while I searched for my glasses. The clock on my end table said it was passed noon. My feet and arms still ached from the trip to Temple Gate, but I could walk without limping.

Last night just before going to sleep I called work to tell them I wouldn't be in today. I did my best to ignore the tapping on my window while I left the bedroom. The birds followed me from Temple Gate, had something been following me before then? Miles said he didn't think so, I hoped not. But… what if the helicopter crash was somehow my fault, what if there was something I could have done?

No, I couldn't' go down that path. I already blamed myself for enough, I couldn't be the cause for everything. I couldn't live with myself. I could barely make it day to day as is, the last thing I needed was another reason to never leave the house again.

I came into the kitchen to find it empty. The strange drawings were still plastered across the walls, though some of them had been crossed out or taken down. I hadn't passed Miles in the hall anywhere. Had he one out again?

"Hello? Miles, are you there?" Did I even want him to be here?

Probably not, but he did seem to care if I lived or died. Even considering the fact the he had murdered Murkoff workers in cold blood, it was probably safer with him than without, especially given that there was a murder cult running around town somewhere. Now that I think about it, they might have something worse than simple death planned for someone like me.

There was a noise from the garage that didn't sound like birds.

I almost hadn't expected to hear anything. Despite that I went through the kitchen and laundry room to the garage. I had stored some old boxes in there, with my luck Miles was probably going through them. I had taken to keeping the door to the garage locked, but when I went through the laundry room the door was open slightly.

"Hey, Miles. What are you doing in there?" I swung the door to the side so I could see in.

Miles stood a few feet from me with his back to the door, beyond him was some other figure. I'd seen it before, floating a few feet from the ground and being cloaked in some strange dark shroud. Writhing green scales slid in and out of view, thin bone hands hung by its side.

I stopped to look at the two things in my garage. Miles didn't see me, I don't think so at least. I thought I heard whisperings coming from the walls but I couldn't make out words over the sound of my own pulse.

Nope.

I'm not sure why I was so calm when I took a step backwards into my laundry room. My hand didn't even shake when I shut the door and locked it. I walked at a steady pace back through the living room, not because my legs or knees ached, but because I just couldn't find it in myself to panic. Not right now at least. Not right now.

I passed the camera that sat on the coffee table. Hadn't I left this on the tripod last night? Oh well, I wasn't worrying about anything right now. Not right now.

My cell was still sitting on my night stand. I don't know what I was going to do with it, but I normally carried a phone with me. I was supposed to have it. Right, just stick to the things you're supposed to be doing. Don't worry about anything else. Not right now.

There was a missed call, the ringing had woken me up. I should have answered instead of running off. There was a voice message. You're supposed to listen to those.

I picked the phone up from the table and hit play on the message,

"Blake, it's Detective Morris. I don't know what's going on with you, but there's been another rainmaker case. I would ask someone else to cover for you, but Agent Sorenson is asking for you to photograph the scene. I don't know why you didn't answer, and I don't want to jump to conclusions, so call me back as soon as you get the message."

I dropped the phone.

Don't worry about it. Do not worry about it. Not right now.

I laid down on the bed.

There was demon in my house. Two, I mean two now. There were still cultists out there. There were monster animals tapping at my window right now. Something louder and closer howled from outside.

Was that one real or imagined?

I don't know. I rolled off the bed and onto the floor. Under the bed was a safe place. I can just wait here.

Was I a prisoner here? Probably. Yes. I mean yes. Holy shit, I can't leave. I'm fucked.

My phone rang again. It had landed a foot or two away from the bed. The old prescription on these glasses didn't make it easy, but I could see Detective Morris's name on the screen. Miles and the other things were in the garage. My windows were locked. I stuck a hand out to grab the cell.

"Hello?" why was I whispering?

"Blake, are you there? I can barely hear you."

"I just got your message" I tried to make myself speak at a normal volume. I was being ridiculous.

"Right, I was just-"

Something pounded on the window behind me. The sounded didn't stop, any harder and the glass was going to come out of its frame. Some dark shadow that hovered a foot above the ground flew passed my bedroom door.

I must have made a sound, Detective Morris spoke more urgently "hey, are you listening? Whats going on."

"Nothing, everything's fine." I didn't even believe me.

A pair of boots walked past my bedroom door too. They had left the garage. What the hell was going on? That thing had been in the street where the rainmakers were, wasn't it supposed to be dead? The rainmakers were at it again, had they gotten to Miles somehow? What if he had been working with them the whole time?

No, I was jumping to conclusions.

"Blake? Answer me!"

Had the detective been talking?

The banging on the window got louder still. Was I imagining that?

"I…" I was in way over my head. Last night everything was as fine as it was going to be, and now I had woken up to a new monster in my garage. Maybe I was jumping to conclusions, or maybe I wasn't and I needed to get out of here, "there's someone in my house"

"Damn it. Find somewhere to hide, stay quite. I'll be there soon."

I was making a mistake.

The banging on the window lessened slightly, but continued on at a steady pace. I stayed in my place under the bed.

What if I was right though? I'd tried gambling with my life before only to find out I didn't want to end it quite yet. If nothing was going on than it was probably for the better that the police get involved. Sure everything might sound impossible now, but Detective Morris was a reasonable guy. He would listen to what I had to say. If everything was on the up and up than Miles could say his side of the story too. It was a win-win.

That was wishful thinking. I hadn't been that lucky in my whole life, even with the best case scenario I would need someone's help, why not the police? There had to be one authority figure somewhere that wasn't corrupt beyond imagination.

Right?

***Miles's POV***

 **He better show up,** I was just about to finish drawing the last piece of a circle onto the garage floor

 _He will be here. It's probably been centuries since anyone last tried to summon him, I'm sure his ego wouldn't let him resist._

 **I'm just saying, I had to run around town all night last night to find someone I didn't mind killing so that I wouldn't be tempted to go after your friend.**

 _I'm sure he'll be flattered by your hospitality._

I finished up with the impromptu art project on the ground.

 **Ok, now what?**

 _Just wait._

 **I was expecting more chanting or candles or something**

I stood in the mostly empty garage. Blake should still be asleep, hopefully I would be

done with this before he woke up and heard about the new Rainmaker case.

 _You humans and your superstition. That's all so gaudy, the Snake wouldn't be caught_

 _dead taking handouts from one of you._

 **Damn, tell me how you really feel.**

There was no reply before the air around the sigils on the floor started to darken and twist into a few thin shapes.

" _Taking the time to call on me? I'm flattered."_ The new voice was the same deep drawn out thing from the alley way

" _Don't speak so soon, I wasn't the one to call you."_ The Walrider took a little of the swarm with it when it drifted from my shoulders.

The urge to rip into the other demon in the room didn't hit me as hard as I had expected. It's good to know that I hadn't stalked the rougher part of town last night for no reason. Heavy soot gathered on the walls and ground of the garage. If we were going to have a talk we were at least going to do it on my terms.

" _So that would mean you asked me here."_ The cloaked monster spoke from its side of the room.

"I'm not happy about it, but yes." I stared at the thing as it grew more solid.

There was a beat of silence, whether it was curiosity or annoyance, I'm not sure.

" _Well don't look at me for answers, he hasn't said anything."_ The walriders familiar static voice came from my side.

" _you didn't just take the information?"_

"… _I wanted to see how this played out."_

"hey! I'm right here." It's like dealing with gossipy old women.

" _well then, by all means. Tell me why I'm here."_

"That's more like it," I at least wanted the chance to say my idiotic plan out loud "So, instead of waiting around for the hunt to come to this world, I'm thinking that I find a way to go to wherever you two are from and stop it before anything gets to earth."

For once the two demons in the room were as silent as the tomb.

"I'm sure that you're both about to tell me a hundred reasons why that would never work, but I don't care," the silence in the room grew thicker along with the layers of soot.

I glanced to the shivering form of the Walrider, "No comment? That's a first."

After a pause that had long ago gotten uncomfortable, a deep rumble that I could almost mistake for laughter grew in the air.

" _Fantastic"_ The cloaked thing on the other side of the room trembled slightly, scales twisting in and out of the dark slightly faster.

" _Even for you, this is almost an insultingly bad plan"_

"It's better than waiting for the hunt to blow into town and trying to wing it"

" _No, this is brilliant."_ Scales scraped passed each other, the distorted laughter echoed from the walls under the demon's words.

There was a tired sigh " _Please don't encourage him."_

" _Who would I be if I didn't?"_

"I'm right here if anyone want to bother talking to me."

" _Oh, right. Where are my manners."_ the scales beneath the billowing cloak slowed ever so slightly, " _how exactly do you plan on going to the other side, and what will you be doing when you get there?"_

" _You're asking him like he actually has a plan."_

I spared a glance at the Walrider next to me.

We would be talking about this later.

"Well, you don't seem to have a problem with crossing sides, I was hoping you could help me out"

" _Ah-ah. I don't work for free."_

"Of course not" I wasn't in the mood to bargain, but I have the sneaking suspicion that the Walrider wasn't about to help me at all, so I was going to need as much help as I could get, "what do you want?"

" _Not much from you, I always did prefer to watch the humans make trouble for themselves from the sidelines."_ the demon shifted slightly to talk towards the walrider, " _You however. I could find a way to get the both of you to the other side if you're willing to do me a favor."_

" _Absolutely not. We settled any debts we had with each other a long time ago, I'm not about to start playing that game again."_

"Hold on a minute. You're the one who's constantly trying to get me to do stupidly dangerous things. You don't get to act like the voice of reason just because you don't like the idea."

" _I'm being the voice of reason because I like being alive. I did the same thing when you were so obsessed with the dreamers and you ignored me. Look where we are now."_

Ok, so maybe the Walrider did have a point.

"This is completely different." but I'll be damned if I was going to let that get in my way.

" _To borrow one of your favorite phrases; Bullshit it is."_

" _If the two of you don't mind"_ the scaled demon interjected from across the ash covered room, " _I have othering things I could be doing. If you're that serious about your plan than accept my terms and we can move on."_

"What do you want?" I didn't have the patience to debate the Walrider and I sure as hell didn't have the time to draw out this conversation. The hunt was going to break loose some time in the net few days, with my luck it would start while I was in here going back and forth with these two.

" _Nothing up front, and should you fail I never had anything to do with you, but on the off chance you actually make it to the other side…"_

There was a pause "Get your point",

" _...assuming you're in a place to make decrees I want this city."_

" _What angle are you playing?"_ I was wondering the same thing but the Walrider spoke before I had the chance.

" _There's no need for you to worry yourself. I've never been the one to make a grab for power, I just want somewhere to call home."_

 _They're hiding something_

That voice came from inside my own head, **you're right but I'm just going to play along for now.**

"Ok fine. I do all the hard work and you come out on top. Anything else?"

" _Nothing comes to mind."_

"Great, then let's get this show on the road"

" _Slow down, it will take some time before I can find a way to get you to the other side. It's not as easy as I'm sure you think it is."_

If I could see the things face I'm sure that there would be a smug grin sitting on it.

I don't know what I would be so optimistic as to think that I was going to be able to get things fixed quickly.

"Of course. How long are we talking?"

" _So impatient. It will take as long as it takes. I'll find you when the time is right."_ I'm not sure if that actually made since, but I kept quiet " _until then, do not forget about our deal."_

"Right, sure thing. I won't forget."

The cloaked thing nodded slightly before its presence drifted from the room. It was almost impressive that every trace of it vanished, I don't think I'd seen one demon that didn't leave a stench or marking behind it.

 _You were acting unusually civil._

The layer of swarm that floated in the air drifted back over my shoulders

 **I'm playing the long con. You weren't about to help me, so I found someone who would.**

 _You're right, I wasn't going to help. I'm just surprised that you bargained with that snake; you're so stubborn with me_

 **Don't think I'm going soft. I lied to him. I'm not about to just hand a city over to some monster.**

 _Ah, there's the idiotically ideal thinking I was expecting._

I took a few steps back to the laundry room and house beyond. I don't remember locking the door behind me, but I must have because the handle didn't turn when I first tried it.

 **Look, idealistic or not it's too late to turn back now.**

 _I know._

 **Then are you going to help?**

I walked into the living room. A new murder of crows was pecking at the windows, I should replace some of the seals I took down to let that other demon into the garage, I don't want anything trying to sneak in.

 _Help is a strong word. Though I'm not going to throw my life away just to make a point, unlike some people._

 **There's the angry agreeing that I was expecting.**

 _Just put the papers up. I don't want anyone sneaking in here and getting the augur, if that happens then I might as well just let myself get killed._

I opened one of the drawers where I had stuffed the papers, **yea, yea hold your horses. I'm working on it.**

I had just picked up the pile when I heard a banging noise come from down the hall

"Blake? Are you up?"

I waited for an answer that never came. The thudding slowly got louder.

The papers went back to the counter top, I followed the sound down the hall. As I got closer to the back bedroom I could make the banging out a little more clearly. It sounded like someone was about to come through a window. I rounded a corner only to find a wild eyed and disheveled man pounding on the windows.

Damn it, I was kind of hoping things hadn't gotten that bad out there.

Patches of green and purple bruises painted what skin I could see, the hair on the man's head was matted and could've been mistaken for a bowl of moldy pasta. Thick globs of yellow foam dribbled from his gaping mouth and down his neck. I couldn't see the lesser demon that I knew was there, it must be tucked in there really deep.

 **Hey, go handle that real quick.**

 _For the thousandth time, I'm not your hunting dog._

 **I know, but I also know that you love to pick on things that are smaller than you. Off you go.**

There was a slight grumble of static before the Walrider took a bit of swarm and my vision with it.

Every time I had rolled into town to close up a rift there were always a couple of monsters that had slipped out and made a host of some poor bastard. This time I was too late when I tried to fix things there was too much damage already done.

I hope I hadn't just wasted my time talking with the Snake.

Well, there wasn't much I could do now besides wait and keep everything away from Blake. I bumbled sightless down the hall, he was probably still asleep. I hadn't bothered to check the main bedroom and I had kind of dragged him through his own personal hell the other day. The least I could do was let the guy sleep it off.


	23. Little Shed on the Prairie

AN: Hello again, I hope everyone's week is going well. Thanks for reading and please enjoy the chapter:

***Blake's POV***

The banging on my window stopped as suddenly as it had started. Was it safe to leave? The cops were on their way, but I had no idea where MIles had gone. I strained to listen for him, for anything really, but the house was quite.

It wasn't safe outside and it wasn't safe inside either. I crawled out from my hiding spot. The room had gone a bit more dim than it had been, I glanced at the window. Was it cloudy out?

No, there were just thick streaks of dirt and beads of blood and who knows what else smeared across the glass. I didn't have long to worry about it before the sound of distant static welled up from the silence. I was pulling the window open and half way outside before I thought about what I was doing.

This was ridiculous, there was obviously something outside.

Actually, from the look of things what ever had been out here was dead.

I nearly slipped on the wet gravel but the need to run from whatever was going on inside kept my upright. Ok, I just needed to stay hidden until detective Morris shows up. I hadn't stopped, but something slithered across my leg. I flinched, a snake with bones sticking out at odd angles went flying through the air only to be grabbed mid flight by a fat crow. There were more plump birds watching from above. There wasn't time to worry about it, I ran for the gate that lead from the back yard to the front.

***Miles's POV***

 _The window is open._

"What?" I just sat down when the walrider got back.

 _The back bedroom where that lesser demon was trying to get in. The window's open._

My vision switched back on while I stood from the couch. I had a sneaking suspicion that I didn't want to be true. I swung the door to the master bedroom open. The room was empty, the sheets on the bed had only hastily been throw back in place, a mess of notebooks covered a chest of drawers, and an empty glass sat on the night stand. A thin layer of dust coated everything I could see.

"I can't go twenty minutes without…" I went down the hallway without finishing my sentence.

"Did you see Blake anywhere?"

 _I wasn't looking for him._

Of course. I hurried to the back door. There was no trace of him, though some of the birds were looking to the front of the house.

I went down the side of the building. What made Blake think that it was a good idea to make a run for it? There was a set of footprints leading from the messy remains on the ground.

 **You couldn't have been a little more subtle?**

 _So picky. You said handle it, I handled it._

Now that I was out of the house I could make out a trail that smelled like misery and fear, I was going the right way. I hadn't made it passed the soiled ground before someone came through the gate on the fence.

It wasn't Blake.

"Get one the ground!"

I think I recognized him? I know we hadn't talked, had I passed by this guy somewhere? He was getting closer by the second and had a gun dawn.

"Get on the ground!"

I had left my sunglasses on the coffe table, **Hey, kill the lights real quick.**

 _And miss the show?_

 **Just do it.**

The gravel ground and dried out fence disappeared from view along with everything else.

"Whoa there, it seems like there's been a misunderstanding." I did not have time for this.

"Put your hands behind your head, lay down on your stomach." He hadn't gotten within arms reach, that much I could tell from the felling in the air.

I wasn't about to lay on the ground, I didn't bother raising my hands either. What was he going to do, shoot me?

"Ok, I'm just going to assume you're a cop of some kind. This looks bad, but I'm looking for a guy named Blake, he lives here. Nothing on the ground came from him." I hadn't forgotten that I was standing in a puddle of jellied flesh.

"You have one more chance. Get on the ground!" what had been a stern voice was now yelling.

No one bothers to talk it out these days, I swear. There were bigger things to worry about than this guy so I just tried to walk passed him. As I took a step forward I felt him inch back.

"Don't come any closer!"

I did.

To his credit, the man tucked the gun away before grabbing at me. His tackle took me off my feet and brought the both of us crumbling to the ground. He must have done this a hundred times for how quickly he had a cuff around my wrist.

 **Ok, nevermind the normal act.**

 _Can we gut him while we're here? The lesser demon didn't even put up a fight._

I regained sight to find myself being shoved into the gravel. The cop had a knee planted in my back. He had a pretty good form, most people would just be left chewing the dirt in this position. Not me though.

I let the hand cuff pass through the swarm arm and just pushed myself off the ground, bringing the cop up with me.

"What the hell?" He toppled heavily to the side. He made to recover quickly, but I had a few lines of swarm pinning him to the ground before he got his balance back.

"Sorry guy, but you don't know what you're getting yourself into." There wasn't anything weird going on with him, not that I could tell at least. It was kind of a relief to be dealing with a boring normal person for a change.

"Hey! Blake! Can you hear me?" I yelled, but there was no response other than some surprised and confused yelling coming from the cop on the ground.

"Can you quiet down for a second?" I look down and asked the man on the ground.

"What is this? Get it off of me!" I thought I saw a detectives badge clipped to his belt while he was thrashing around.

"Hey, hey. Calm down. Nothing's happening to you."

 _Nothing yet._

 **We just ate. Calm down.**

There was only a tiny reduction in his twisting around.

"Ok, so you're not going to be very helpful" I muttered to myself

I could still feel a little trail in the air that Blake left behind him. There were way too many things crawling around out here to leave him alone for long and I wasn't about to leave this guy on the ground either.

"Get up, come on," I grabbed the man and pulled him to standing, "here's the deal. We're going to go look for Blake and neither one of us is going to do anything stupid. Ok?"

He was still flustered but managed to say something that wasn't panicked yelling "who are you and what is this?"

I still had a thick rope of swarm holding his hands together.

"I'm a friend. I'll let you go, and I'll explain everything later but I really need to find this guy. I would much rather you help me than make things harder."

I didn't wait for a response before I pulled back the line of swarm, nor did I waste time before walking to the gate.

I wasn't even in the front yard before I felt the air tense slightly behind me, the detective must be going back for his gun.

"Look, you can shoot me if you really want to, but it won't do you much good." I didn't bother to slow down as I spoke, Blake was somewhere out here and with my luck some asshole with an agenda was already stalking him.

There was a rush of footsteps behind me while the cop caught up.

"See, life's much easier when you're not telling people to get on the ground." The trail was getting a little stronger. If it was this easy for me to follow it, I didn't even want to think of what else had found it.

"Not so fast, why did you break into mister Langermanns house?"

"Oh, so you do know Blake. I didn't break in. Well, not today at least, but that's besides the point."

The trail lead across the street, a murder of crows were going the same way.

"One more thing," I continued talking "can you not call for backup? I don't want to break that radio you've got on you, but you keep reaching for it and it's really just going to do more harm than good."

There was shocked silence, I didn't need to look to know he was planning a fast one.

"Let me guess, 'I wasn't about to do anything like that'? No hard feelings but come on, I wasn't born yesterday."

We walked passed a few houses, the weight in the air hung heavy. Wherever Blake had hidden it was close. I wasn't the only one following him, the ground was covered in dark feathers. There were a couple of bags of soil sitting next to a trashcan against a fence, it looked climbable. It wasn't hard to rip the dried wooden slats from their place.

There was no point in being subtle now. The cloud of swarm that ripped the fence from its place took a few cawing crows with it. The display scared a few more of the birds from their perches, though for every one that flew away three more came to replace it.

"Blake! We're going back to the house, get out here." He was lucky it was just birds following him, for now.

"What the hell…?" the cop was just picking his way through the remains of the fence.

This yard was mostly bare, except for the gardening shed that was covered in birds.

I walked to it, lashing the little monsters away as I moved, "You're being ridiculous, come on."

The shed didn't make a sound.

"Mister Langermann? Blake? Are you in there?" the detective asked from a few feet behind me.

"Detective Morris?" a muffled voice came from inside the little shack.

"Yea, it's me." he walked passed me, "I'm going to come in, is that okay?"

There was no response when the detective nudged the door open. I didn't move a muscle when he stepped inside and out of view. I wasn't the bad guy here, there was no reason to go huffing and puffing and blow the house down.

 _You could have just killed him in the back yard, it would have saved us the trouble of figuring out what to do now._

 **That would have just made more problems.**

 _Like letting him live didn't?_

 **I know this is bad, but maybe we can make this into a positive? I don't know, Blake was doing some police work, maybe they're friends.**

 _I know I'm not too familiar with the concept, but last time I checked friends don't go into friends houses with guns drawn._

 **He's a cop, he was probably just swinging by and noticed that the back gate was open.**

 _That's too convenient, I think Blake called him._

 **Why would he do that?**

 _Are you kidding me? You told him yourself that you were a murderer._

 **I-**

The hard to miss click of a gun came from behind me. I was slow to turn around, Blake and the other guy were hidden away in the shed so who the hell was behind me? I turned to finds a little man holding a rifle, he was older if the thin gray comb over was anything to go by. From the glazed over and vacant look in his eyes it wasn't the man's choice to come up behind me with a rifle.

" _Go away"_ the Walrider spoke from my shoulder.

Another demon? There was usually a day or two between these sorts of things. I guess I shouldn't be that surprised.

I opened my mouth to tell the thing to get lost but a gunshot split the air before I got the chance. The bullet lodged itself deep in my shoulder, off of reflex I lunged for the thing. The yard was covered in soft ash before I thought twice about it.

My hand came down heavy on the man's head. He crumbled to the ground without even putting up a fight. The old guy looked up in with panic in his eyes.

"What did you just do?" he huffed out from his place in the soot.

I said nothing back. The yard twisted at impossible angles, walls grew from the ground and the sky came down to make a crumbling ceiling.

"What's going on?" the ground under the man had gone from hot stinking water and burnt rock to dingy tile.

From the look of things we were in one of the houses on my street. I yelled into the building, "You can leave now, or I can take the building down with you in it."

"Y-you're talking to it? What is this? Who are you?" the man shook as he scrambled to standing.

"Long story, just get out of here." I gestured at the front door. On a normal day my burnt out street would be the only thing waiting for you outside, but this place was my domain. I make the rules here, and I'm deciding to give the old guy a chance. If the fact that he wasn't a walking dead man was anything to go by he couldn't have been playing host to whatever this thing was for long.

"Just don't shoot me again. It's annoying."

A tiny bit of embarrassment bubbled under a heavy layer of fear but the man said nothing before he ran to the door and flung it wide open on its hinges.

The grime on the walls and floor wasn't my doing. The Walrider glided off my shoulders and floated a few feet from the ground, " _I spend all day cleaning this place and it gets ruined in a matter of seconds. People these days have no manners."_

A patch of mildew in the corner twitched a little.

I took a step towards it "ok you piece of shit, come on. Let's make this quick"

With the swarm arm I reached into the stain and pulled it from the wall. A head splitting scream sliced the air the second I touched it. A vine-like body slick with mold spores and stinking blue liquid twisted out of it's impossibly small hiding spot.

Whoever they were they didn't stop to chat before braking from my grasp and running towards me. I simply took a step the the side and let them run through where I had been. The dingy tile ground melted into a thick tar, the rotting thing sank to what passed for its knees.

"Did you really think that was going to work?" I was almost talking to myself as I walked towards the viney thing.

I had seen some sad displays before, but that was almost bad enough to make me pity the thing.

It squirmed for a bit in the steaming ground, clumps of mold drifted away and floated in the simmering ground. The stench of its body being boiled alive was somehow worse than it had been a second ago.

" _You! You devoured my sister!_ "

I looked to the Walrider that floated above,

" _Probably the man at the window"_

"Could be, but that's a long list."

" _I'll kill you. Damn you!"_

"Ya, ya, get in line."

I took a single long step to the thing, the molten ground stayed solid underneath me. I planted my natural arm on its head and ripped at the soggy vines and blue slime that gave it form. The earsplitting shriek sliced through the air again, though it didn't last long before the demon drew its last breath.

The ooze grew thick and gray, each vine of the things body withered and crumbled to dust, the last of the beasts life drained from my house. It was dead before the echo of its screams faded to that same nothingness.

The ground grew solid once again, the spores of mould flaked away from the walls and were gone before they hit the ground.

That thing barely had enough life in it to even taste. If anything it left me hungry and wanting more.


	24. Calling in the Cavalry

AN: Hello once again, I hope everyone's week went well. Thank you for reading and if you want to don't be afraid to leave a comment -feedback is always welcome. In the mean time though, please enjoy:

***Blake's POV***

The door to the shed creaked open just wide enough to let somebody sip inside.

"Blake? Are you in here?" it wasn't Miles. Thank christ, it wasn't him.

"Detective Morris? Is that you? Oh thank God, I should have just left with you yesterday. I'm so sorry. This looks bad - it is bad. I-I don't even know what to say. It's just…" the words tumbled out as whispers. I heard Miles out there, he knew I was hidden in the shed.

How did he know? Who am I kidding, it was probably some sort of demon magic that I didn't want to think about.

"Whoa, slow down. Breath. Are you hurt?"

"Yes, no… Yes. Well technically-"

"You're rambling again."

I was. I took a breath.

"Only a little"

I couldn't make out many of Morris's facial expressions between the dim light and the old prescription on my glasses but a slight sigh said that he suspected as much. There was a second of silence while he shuffled through his pockets. He pulled out his cell phone and started typing a message out.

"Ok, here's the plan. We play along with whatever that guy out there says and we wait for backup."

I opened my mouth to tell him that that was a terrible idea when he shushed me.

"Did you hear that?"

"No, what are you talking about?"

"It sounded like a bolt action-"

" _Go Away"_

"-being cocked"

I was more worried about the harsh static voice coming from outside, "did you hear that?"

"No?"

How was I supposed to tell him I heard a voice? I still sounded crazy to myself.

I didn't have to worry about it for too long before a low gunshot shook the air.

"Get down!" I didn't have time to obey before Morris came down on top of me.

Who else is out there? Miles didn't carry a gun, there was no reason for him to. The detective lifted off of me slightly, but stayed low. I wasn't sure when he had drawn the pistol from his side, but it was held firmly in his hands now.

I don't think a gun was going to do much good for us. The last echoes of the rifle had only just faded from hearing. The sound was replaced by the stench of burnt meat and stinking water. I recognized it, this was the same feeling I had in the alley way when I was hiding in that trash can. There was something out there besides the devil I knew.

"Morris, stay in here. It's not safe. Just, don't go outside." I looked around for a table to hide under, or a cabinet to crawl into. I didn't want to be part of this.

The detective wasn't listening to me. Could he even tell what was going on? Did he smell the scent of charred flesh and swampy water, or was that just something I got the privilege of noticing? At any rate he nudged the door open to get a peek outside.

There was a quick swear before he stood upright and kicked the door open wide enough to see clearly into the yard.

"Hey, get up! Get off of him!"

"Morris, no! You don't know what you're doing!" I whisper yelled from my corner.

I could barely see passed the detective, but even with his broad back in the way I could make out an older man laying on the ground with Miles on top of him. There was a dense black shroud over them that drifted slightly with the wind. Shadows from the shed, house, and fence twisted when they came near the jittering darkness. Inside the dome was hard to make out, but the smell in the air became stronger when the door had been flung open.

I had seen the swampy hellscape that existed in there. I had no intention of going back.

Morris didn't get the message, he took a step out of the shed. Against my better judgment I grabbed his shoulder and tried to pull back. My hands ached and my arm was still raw, but I wasn't about to let him walk into god knows what.

"Blake, get off me!"

"No, I'm helping, Trust me. Do not go over there!"

Morris was just about to say something else when there was a commotion on the ground. The gray haired man flailed backwards across the ground in an uncoordinated crab walk. He looked wild eyed and terrified at Miles, who still hadn't moved, and then at Morris and me, who were standing in the doorway of the shed.

"Phoenix PD, are you-"

The old man scrambled upwards and half hobbled half ran as fast as he could from the yard.

"-hurt?"

"He's as fine as he's going to be," Miles still hadn't moved "let's get out of here"

"I'm not just going to leave this guy out here. We need to take him in, he broke into your house."

I shouldn't have gotten Morris involved, I was dragging him down with me.

"Right, but I don't think you can arrest him."

"I don't know who this guy is, but everyone answers to the law. It'll be fine."

Miles moved slightly. "That's not what I meant. He's not human! I don't know what you can see, but there's magic and demons and I know I sound crazy. But I swear, I'm telling the truth. The Rainmakers are involved somehow - don't ask me how though. I don't know. And apparently the apocalypse is happening. And, and…" and the detective was looking at me exactly the same way people looked at me when I talked about my night in Temple Gate. The same look of confusion that I got when I mentioned the blood rain. The same disappointment as when I talked about Father Lautermilch. The same pity I got when I mentioned Lynn and our daughter.

"...and we need to go." is all I managed to get out from under the weight of Morris's gaze.

To his credit, Morris was gentle when he talked to me "sit down. I'll get everything handled. Back up is on the way. We're going to be fine."

No we're not.

The shadows on the ground had drifted back to their natural places. The swirling cloud around Miles had started thinning into nothing more than a weak mist.

Detective Morris grabbed the only arm Miles had and tried to push the man to the ground.

It didn't work.

***Miles's POV***

What was on my back?

I craned my neck to get a look behind me. The cop was doing his best to get me to the ground - again - and Blake was half hidden in the tool shed.

"Can you stop?" I asked the man behind me.

He staggered back a step, "we can do this peacefully, get on the ground."

This is getting old. I ignored him, "Blake, get back to the house, it's dangerous out here."

"Stay right there, don't move. I will shoot." The detective took a protective step between me and the shed.

"Believe it or not, I'm not the bad guy here. And, could you maybe not shoot? Old farmer Joe back there already got me in the shoulder. Sorry about the jacket Blake!" the bullet hole was a little too big to be mended.

The cop stopped pointing his gun at me, though he still looked ready to fire.

I used a little tendril of swarm to pick my glove up off the ground while I reset my arm. The cop didn't flinch but I felt fear and confusion trickling off of him.

"I'm sure Blake's been babbling some nonsense about monsters and the apocalypse and what not. It's all true, for the record. Well, most of it probably. I have no idea what he actually told you." It was far too late to go smooth talking my way out of the situation, might as well try being direct instead.

It's not like I was trying to hide anything from him, my eyes were easy to see, I was regrowing an arm as I spoke.

"We can talk about it all day if you really want to, let's just get out of the open first." I spoke a last sentence while I worked the glove back over my faked hand.

"That's a conversation we need to have at the station." his words were calm, but the man under them was confused and worried.

Now that I was back in one piece I took a step towards them. There wasn't time to sit around trading words, it wasn't safe.

I didn't make it more than a yard before the detective fired a shot. The hot bead of lead tore through my gut. This jacket was ruined.

"What did I just say?" I kept walking, the walrider was already busy knitting ripped shreds of kidney back together.

I had barely finished my sentence before another bullet flew through my leg.

Enough of this. A long tendril of swarm ripped the gun from the detective's hands. He yelped as the heavy weapon flew to the ground. I let the gun stay where it fell in the dirt, the detective was the focus of my attention now. A heavier cloud rushed to the man, knocking him flat on his back. He landed with a heavy thud that drove the air from his lungs.

There was nothing he could do from the ground, the gravel dug into his shirt and dust came up from the struggle. I looked down at him.

Who did he think he was, coming in here without knowing what the hell was going on. It would be easier to just get rid of him now. It's not like he could do anything to stop me from down there. No one could do anything that could stop me.

"Hey! Get off of him!" someone yelled off to the side.

The detective stayed pinned to the ground under a layer of swarm while I looked around.

"Stop it!" Blake was standing out in the open.

No one could stop me.

The confusion wafting off the cop had been washed away by a flood of terror.

No one could stop me except for myself.

Thats right, back away from the edge. Not again, not today, not tomorrow. Not again.

"Get up." I pulled the man from the ground with a rough jerk of the swarm.

I kept the detective off balance as he stood. Little lines of swarm pushed him to follow me while I walked across the yard.

"We're going back to the house. Now." This wasn't a debate.

"Okay, ok. Just… ok"

I stepped back a bit and gestured for Blake to walk. There was no way I was letting him leave my sight now.

He got the message and started walking back, the detective struggled to avoid being dragged along.

 _You make quite the spectacle out of yourself._

 **It's not pretty, but I'm still the good guy here.**

 _I'm sure the man in chains behind you and the one in front would beg to differ._

I wasn't about to debate morality with the Walrider again. There's no way to win that game, and even if their was I'm pretty sure the prize wasn't worth it.

"What made you think it was a good idea to leave the house? Were you even listening to me when I explained the whole apocalypse thing?" I asked Blake to distract myself from the walrider.

"I saw you talking to that other monster. In the garage." the quickness of the words and the sweet smell of fear wafting off of him told me that Blake wasn't keen on talking to me.

"What do you think you saw?" this also sounded like a losing conversation

"What do I think…? What's that supposed to mean? I saw you talking to the demon from the rainmaker alleyway! I thought it was dead, what haven't you been telling me?"

"You have a connection to the Rainmakers?" That was the cop talking from behind me.

Today could have been so nice. I could have been sitting on the couch and catching up on the news, maybe I could have had a chat with Blake that wasn't about death, doom, and gloom.

"No I don't" I said first to the cop behind us, "and, Blake, if you wanted to know what was going on with the other demon you could have just done this thing where you come up and ask like a normal person instead of running out, calling the cops, and nearly getting yourself lost, killed, or worse."

"Why would I think that just coming up and asking is a good idea?"

"Have I done anything to make you think otherwise?"

"Yes! How many times have you broken into my house? You've been stalking me on and off for the last week. And that's not even considering what the Murkoff files said about you."

We couldn't get to the house fast enough. There were no people walking around, but there were more than enough fat black birds watching from their perches.

"Of course those files would make me look bad, think about who wrote them."

"You even admitted to the murders, you can't look much worse than that."

"Wait a seconed. Murders?" the detective spoke up again.

Damn it.

"It wasn't murder, and would you just calm down for a second?" This really wasn't helping my chances with the detective behind me.

 _It is a bit hard to run off and save the world from the inside of a cell isn't it?_

 **We both know that's not going to be the thing to stop me.**

We had gotten to the bottom of the driveway when the cop spoke again, "I don't know what you two are talking about, but let's make this easier on everybody and just go to the station. Look, my car's right there. We can all just get in and talk it out."

"Nice try, but keep walking." I pulled him along with me and Blake to the front door.

I unlatched the bolts and chain from the inside. The door swung open.

"We can talk about whatever you want to inside." I stepped aside to let Blake through the door.

He looked at me like he wasn't interested in what I had to say, but he went into the house anyways. The detective didn't have much of a choice, I tossed him through the door before stepping through myself.

 **Go shut the window and back door. I don't want to deal with anymore guests.**

The Walrider didn't argue for once.

It probably didn't want to delay the fireworks any longer.

Blake shifted back in surprise slightly as the Walrider left the room. It hadn't taken any of the swarm. I could barely see the thing and I lived with it, the detective was completely oblivious. I leaned against the door, partially to keep anyone from trying to leave, but mostly to keep distance between myself and the rest of the room.

"What the hell…" The detective regained his footing before falling down completely.

"Don't worry about the posters, they look worse than they actually are." I spoke from my place at the door.

"What do they say?" Blake asked from the other side of the room. He was still pretty high strung from the field trip outside, it was a fine mix of adrenaline and fear.

"I already told you, they're basically keep out signs."

"Then why was there another demon in my garage?"

"Because I took some of them down. I'm not trying to do anything too crazy, I'm sure as hell not trying to hurt you, so calm down."

The detective came back into the conversation after being distracted by the decorations, "Slow down, what?"

Blake shot him a hurt look.

"We already told you, demons and the apocalypse, why's that so hard to wrap your head around?"

"Don't change the subject on me, where did the demon from the alley go?" Blake was finally growing something that resembled a spine, I'm impressed.

"It's not here. I don't know where it went, Hell? Purgatory? I didn't bother asking."

The detective was just about to say something else when a shadow that was the Walrider traced through the room and back to me. Blake jumped back in surprise, I did my best not to react to the sudden movement. The detective noticed the commotion in the room, but couldn't see the cause.

"Blake, what's wrong?" the cop changed whatever he was going to say into a question

"You didn't just see that?"

"Of course he didn't." I barely noticed the moving shadow and I knew what I was looking for.

The two talked back and forth for a moment, though it was mostly just the detective asking the same questions over again and Blake dancing around the topic. I'd already told them both straight up what was going on, there was no reason to keep repeating myself.

 _I was hoping for something a little more dramatic. This is just a waste of time._

 **I'm glad. I need some time to figure out what I'm doing next.**

 _I thought you were just waiting until the Old Snake comes back to deliver our death sentence._

 **So optimistic. I am, but we need to figure something out with the detective first. We can't just keep him here, too many people will notice he's gone. Especially if he was working on the rainmaker case.**

 _About that, shouldn't he be at the crime scene?_

 **Probably.**

I wasn't getting anywhere, these two were just talking in circles and the Walrider wasn't interested in helping much. The building had a growing coat of unease on the walls. What were they doing? I could understand Blake's panic and fear, that was standard. The detective was confused but guarded, something that was understandable given the situation. But there was something else, something that make the air tense and ready to snap at the slightest movement.

I was tapping my foot slightly, it took effort to stay still and against the wall. I just ate, I shouldn't be this focused on killing something, I wasn't imagining things.

Blake and the detective were still going back and forth on the same subject.

Just at the edge of hearing there was a siren.

"Guys," the wailing of a police car slowly grew closer "really?"

The two other men stopped talking and looked towards me when they notice that I had spoken. They must be able to hear the sirens by now.

"I asked, as politely as I could, that you not call anyone else." I was talking to the detective now.

They must have been at the end of the street, I could hear the car engines running.

"I don't know what you're talking about" the cop stood between me and Blake.

Something skidded to a stop in front of the house. The sirens screamed, even through the wall it was hard to hear past.

"At least act like I'm not an idiot." I turned around to look out of the peep hole in the door.

Sure enough there was a police cruiser parked halfway onto the curb. Another pulled up a second later. More were on their way.


	25. Just a Chat

AN: Sorry I'm updating later than usual, I caught a cold and was passed out asleep by about 7 last night. More importantly, to address a question in the comments; there's a somewhat intentional parallel to the first story. The name of the game here, I feel, is that everything is similar but different. Also, please enjoy the chapter:

***Blake's POV***

I shouldn't have told Morris anything. I had only made a bigger mess.

"You're not an idiot. No one thinks you are." the detective was in between me and Miles. He was diplomatic when he spoke. I had already told him what was going on here, but I didn't know if he believed me. He had seen the lead and other things that made up the Walriders body, he saw Miles's eyes, he just wouldn't make the leap to the supernatural.

It was daylight outside, but dim blue and red lights flashed against my curtains. A swirly gray line of floating metal slid them closed.

"Miles, maybe we should just go outside." that was the best answer here, "I mean, it should be safe at the police station." I didn't believe that exactly, but I could pretend.

"Yeah, I'm going to have to go with no on that one." He was still standing in front of the door.

The sirens outside stopped. There was a second of unsteady silence before the detectives cell phone started ringing.

"I'm going to pick that up. Is that ok?" He was asking Miles before making a move. I'm sure that he was following whatever policy there was for hostage negotiations to the letter but it didn't make me feel any better.

"What would you do if I said no?" Miles looked distracted, almost bored, when he spoke.

There was a little pause that was wondering if he was serious or not.

"Go ahead and pick it up, I was just trying to lighten the mood a little."

It wasn't working. Morris answered and immediately put the phone on speaker.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" it was a woman who spoke over the little device.

"You're on speaker right now" Morris was the one who answered.

"Good, can everybody hear me?"

"You can cut the nice act. This isn't my first rodeo. Here's the deal, I'm not going to prison today." Miles was tapping his foot against the ground, the twitching made me think that he was about to jump at whoever came near him.

"Ok mister. This sounds like one big misunderstanding. You can just come outside and we can talk about it face to face."

"Nice try lady, but I just said this wasn't my first hostage negotiation. You're going ot have to try harder than that."

Wasn't his first..? Who exactly had I let into my house?

"That's not what she meant, it's just-" Morris tried to back up what the woman on the phone said.

"Save it. You're playing good cop, better cop. It's a nice change of pace, but really, I don't have the time or the patience to be locked in a cell."

"You're not going to get locked up mister... What is your name? I'm Jennifer Sorenson. You can call me Jennifer if you like."

They let agent Sorenson on the phone? How was I going to explain this, she's already met Miles before. Wait, she was only in town because of the Rainmaker case, did the department think that this was related somehow? No, don't be ridiculous, there was a new murder this morning, she probably just tagged along because she was already there. But still, Miles said that he had found where the Rainmakers were staying. I had thought about it before, but what if they got to him?

No, what if he was with them from the beginning.

Oh my god, how did I not notice from the start?

He shows up the day the killings start. I watched a video of the Walrider ripping a man to shreds and leaving a bloody explosion behind. He knew exactly where each of the killings happened. He 'found' the cult with no resources. He seemed way too eager to drag me out to Temple Gate again and as soon as he did everything got worse. The rainmakers have been leaving weird symbols behind, he said they were summoning something; my living room was coated in samey shapes. I saw him talking to a demon in the garage. My backyard looked like every other crime scene.

I'm stupid. He even told me that he murdered his way through the Murkoff corporation.

"Sorry Jennifer. I think I'll call you Agent. You probably worked hard for that title, after all the FBI doesn't just hand it out to everybody. It would be rude not to use it, don't you think?" Miles's voice barely registered on me.

There was a thinking silence from the phone that echoed the own numbness I felt in my limbs.

"Hello, Agent Sorenson? Are you still there?"

"Who is this?" the nice act was starting to fade a little. There was a threateningly professional tone bleedin through the words.

"That's what I was expecting. My name is Miles Upshur, you can look it up but there's not much to find."

I should have done some digging on my own time. Was Miles even his real name? He had used a fake name before, who was to say that that wasn't a fake too.

"Ok. Miles. There's no reason for me to go digging into your past. We can just talk face to face. How does that sound."

"I'd rather not. I'm looking kind of rough these days." did he just roll his eyes? The words and tone said sarcasm, but the look on his face said he was planning something.

What was he planning, why was he so calm. What did he know that I didn't?

"Miles," detective Morris spoke from my side, "it doesn't matter what you did, it matters what you will do. Nobody has been hurt so far, we can keep it that way."

Could we? There were god knows how many police cruisers out there, I don't think I trust Miles any further than I can throw him.

"Well, Mister Upshur, can you send out the other two men that are in the house?"

"I don't think that's that's such a great idea either."

I shuffled closer to Morris. Maybe I could find a way to tell him that Miles had something to do with the Rainmakers. Would that be hurting or helping in this situation? It doesn't matter, I just need to get out of here. But how bad were things out there? Even without thinking about the rainmakers there were still demons and otherworldly monsters. It wasn't safe out there, but it wasn't safe in here either. My house was being watched, how long would it me until something attacked the crowd outside? It didn't matter that they were police; it didn't matter that they didn't know what was really going on.

"What makes you think that?" they were just talking like there wasn't anything wrong in the world.

"For starters, it looks like there's an angry mob outside" Miles hadn't looked to know if what he said was true.

He didn't need to check. Half of the things watching the house probably answered to him. How had I gotten into this mess? One night in the desert, no, one freak accident in a helicopter. That's all it took.

Demons were watching from the outside, Lynn hung on the wall to watch from the inside.

I'm sorry.

I should have told here we would go out in the morning. There was no reason to be recording that night. She would still be alive, Miles never would have had a reason to show up at my door step.

"Blake, hey. Did you say something?" Morris muttered from next to me.

Huh? Was I talking out loud? I hadn't noticed.

"No" I whispered back.

Miles talked to the phone but still seemed distracted by something not even I could see.

I wasn't going to make a stand now, I never did. Not with Lynn, not with Jessica. Not now.

"You've always been so nervous. You don't have to be." Someone else spoke. I knew that voice. It didn't come from anyone in the room. I knew that voice.

I buried my face in my hands. No, that wasn't real. There were too many real monsters, I don't need that one to be here again.

It kept talking "You're so full of regret. You know, shame is a gift from God, it's to let you know right from wrong."

No, no. He wasn't here. That was twenty years ago. There were too many real monsters to worry about. I leaned heavily against the wall, it didn't help much. My knees buckled and I crumbled to the ground. No, he was not in my house.

"Blake, get up. Are you ok?" someone shook my shoulder.

"You're just confused." he was in the room, getting closer. I had to get out of here. Run!

I did what I could to push myself to standing. I saw him standin in my kitchen, watching me from behind the counter. The light was covered in fleshy purple and black roots. An awful gurgling noise bubbled up the things throat and slithered past a whip like tongue. The skin of its face was gone, the chin and jaw were missing, bloodied and rotten teeth had no lips to cover them from view. More sickeningly familiar words came from the creature, how they weren't as twisted and broken as the limbs that had been ripped from the demon's body and shove through its torso, I don't know.

"You're not evil Blake. You don't have to hide, let me help you."

There was nothing for me to say. I ran for the hall. I needed to leave. What ever was outside wasn't as bad at that creature.

I only made it a step before I ran into the detective.

"Blake, calm down. Stop moving!","What's going on in there?","Nothing, don't worry about it.", "everything's okay".

They were all talking. I don't know who said what. Morris wouldn't move.

I tried to push forward. A quick glance over my shoulder showed the demon that was Father Lautermilch lazily strolling from my kitchen into the living room.

"No, stay back!" I looked at the thing while I spoke.

It didn't speak any words, there was a heavy thud in the roof. Something ran over the tiles outside, small flecks of dust rained down from the ceiling with every step. Miles moved just a little bit to look around. It was real. Some of it, most of it. I don't know.

***Miles's POV***

"What are you doing?" Agent Sorenson had dropped the nice act completely. Blakes whining and panicked yelling wasn't helping my image.

 **Figure out what's he's seeing.**

There were flecks of paint coming down from the ceiling. That wasn't the cops.

Shit.

The taste of fear in the air somehow grew thicker.

"Go away!" Blake was looking into the living room when he spoke that time, "get off of me!"

I stayed firmly against the door. He wasn't thinking straight and it would be too easy to-

"I will send men in there right now if anyone's about to get hurt!"

Not now, there were witnesses.

That's not what I meant, "everything is fine in here. No one is in danger." I spoke through gritted teeth.

 _Nevermind whoever's on the roof._

 **One problem at a time. What's going on with Blake?**

 _There's no one in the house, but he is in the middle of a waking nightmare. It's of that demon from his school days._

 **Good, I guess. What's on the roof.**

 _I didn't go out and check._

Of course not. Another heavy thud shook the room

"Jennifer, is there anyone on the roof?" the cop asked his question from under a flailing Blake.

"No. Mister Upshur, who's you're friend on the roof?"

"I don't have any friends on the roof, I thought that one was yours."

"It's another demon and you know it!" Blake was still trying to squirm past the detective.

"Was that Mister Langermann?" Sorensen asked from over the phone.

"Uh… he's a bit busy right now"

Panic flowed off of him and rang like a dinner bell. It mingled with the fear in the air and became something savory and nearly too tempting to be ignored.

I crossed my arms and did what I could to focus on standing still. They were moving around outside, no one had tried to climb to the roof to figure out what was up there. There was group of people going around back to find a way into the house. They were all nervous and ready for this to end badly. It's been awhile since I've had a human fight back it would be fun, something like a walk down memory lane.

Snap out of it. Focus on what you're here for.

There was a distant ripple of disgust in the air, they must have found the jellied remains that coated part of the house.

"Busy with what?" she was just stalling for time.

"Oh, nothing special. Not to change the topic or anything, but could you call your guys back to the front of the house? I don't want to deal with swat crawling in through the windows."

There was a moment of silence from the phone. It was too late to score any points in my favor. Being threatening wasn't the best choice, but if somebody came in here and started making trouble they weren't walking out alive.

"How did you know that." Sorenson was matter the fact.

"Magic." technically the truth, not that she would believe that.

I couldn't keep this up much longer.

 _I say we just kill everyone and walk away._

That was the fastest way to get out of here. It was probably the safest in the long run too. A few dozen cops, an FBI agent, and Blake caught in the crossfire, what did it matter in the long run if it meant I was still free to stop the hunt?

Snap out of it.

 _A cell isn't the kind of thing that can slow us down._

 **Nice try. But not today.**

 _It was worth a shot._

Ok, think this through. I can't just make a run for it without dragging Blake along with me or we're all doomed. That would start a manhunt, that's no good. I could just walk out and get taken in by the police. I'd get locked up in a cell, they would probably charge me with something to keep me there. I'd have to invent a reason for them to keep Blake there too or we're still doomed.

"Mister Upshur this is not a game. Is everyone inside ok?"

Blake was still desperately trying to shove his way past the detective. I put effort into ignoring what he was saying, it was something whispered in a panic.

"Everyone's just peachy" I spoke back to the agent.

The only winning move was not to play, but it was far too late for that.

"Is the phone still on speaker? Can you let someone else talk?"

"Don't tell me you're getting tired of little old me that quickly." This conversation was the only thing I had to really distract myself from doing something stupid, I'd rather not end it.

"Not at all. But I would like to know that everyone else is safe."

That and she wanted to stall for time. There was still a group of people in the backyard, missing them was impossible with how high strung they were.

"Hey detective, are you safe?" I asked the man from across the room.

There was a moment's pause, Blake was still trying to disappear into the back of the house and the cop was doing all he could to calm him down. He was about to speak when another thud came from the ceiling. The noise drove Blake a little further into his panic, the detective had to double his effort to keep Blake from hurting himself.

"...Never mind the silence, he's fine."

"Mister Upshur, put detective Morris on the phone."

This was not helping my case.

"I'm fine!" the detective yelled a little more forcefully that he needed to before speaking to Blake "calm down, there's nothing there."

"Detective? Whats going on in there?"

"Nothings going on, I told you they're fine." For now at least.

Another thud came from the roof, I couldn't forget about that either. I should be better than this. I had just ripped some lesser monster to shreds, I should not be ready to hunt down someone else so soon.

 _I told you it was only a matter of time until you lost it. You're stubborn, but not even you can keep the cravings at bay._

 **I made it this far.**

 _Yes, but you won't make it much further._

I wasn't about to admit it out loud, but the longer I sat in here waiting for something to happen the less prepared I was going to be. Fighting wasn't a choice without turning the street into a bloodbath. Running wasn't a choice without dragging Blake with me. Turning myself in wasn't a choice.

"Why don't you let the detective speak for himself?"

There was another thud from the roof. I needed to handle that, it was probably better if I snapped at what ever was on the roof rather than the people outside. There was no fire place in the house, no chimney to crawl up. I picked up the phone and turned it off speaker.

The detective was still wrestling with Blake.

"Here's the deal," I spoke to the both of them, "Don't go outside and there won't be any problems"

There was a flicker of hope from the detective, he was obviously planning on just walking out of the house the second I was out of sight. I bit my tongue, it would be so sweet to let him dream up a plan and then rip into at the last second.

"Please? It's really better for everybody if you don't try anything, you already made everyone's life harder by calling in your buddies out there."

He was going to make a break for it, the both of them were. I couldn't let the creature on the roof stay there though, it was watching, waiting for the right moment to come crashing into the house, or for an opening in the police outside. That's what I would do, wait until someone turned their back and then rush in. The confusion in the crowd would give me plenty of time to-

First things first. Get rid of the monster on the roof, deal with the problems one at a time.

I hadn't gotten either of the two men to agree that they weren't going to run away, but I couldn't wait for an answer. It was do something now, or nothing at all.

I picked up the phone and held it to my ear, Agent Sorenson didn't need to know that I wasn't in the living room too.

"Hello! Hello, is anyone still listening?" the moment of silence must have been a bigger red flag than I had meant for it to be. The words carried a spicy current of anger and aggravation, it was getting to be too much to ignore.

"I'm still here"

I made my way through the kitchen and into the garage, maybe I could get into the attic and make my way outside from there.

I didn't bother flicking on the lights. I didn't need them and the last thing I needed was for anyone on the outside to figure out that I had left the living room.

Who am I kidding, Morris was probable dragging Blake out the front door now.

"Put the detective on the phone mister Upshur"

There was a cord hanging from the ceiling; a fold out later came creaking down when I pulled it. I hope no one outside heard that.

"I'm starting to get the feeling that you don't like me." I made quick progress up the latter.

The attic was cramped, there were a couple of dusty boxes labeled halloween and christmas, but other than that it was just crumbling insulation and wooden beams as far as the eye could see.

"I'm only worried about everyone's safety." the angry edge to her words was dulled somewhat under a regrown layer of professionalism, but I could still hear it and I still wanted to rip through the house, the people inside of it, and the crowed on the outside.

"So kind of you"

The thin layer of wood that made the roof shook with a heavy thrud. A strip of insulation dropped from its place. Whatever was up there wasn't making much noise, physically or otherwise. I barely noticed it's dull dark presence underneath the tension in the air and the nervous energy that coated the living room walls. I crawled to the exposed wood, a solid kick would shake it loose and give me access to the roof.

"Can I ask you why you're doing this?" I still held the phone to my ear.

"Would you take the greater good as an answer?" I hear the thing on the roof, it scraped against the shingles before another heavy thud shook the wooden supports.

"Why do you think that?" she was stalling, I was stalling. I wanted to go down stairs and have my fill of the worried and high strung officers, not chase away yet another lesser demon.

I didn't talk back, there wasn't much time to spare before Blake and the detective made a run for it. I hung up the detective's phone and tucked it into a jacket pocket. The wooden panels gave way from a quick kick. The harsh daylight took a moment to adjust too, but when the scenery finally came into view I found the back yard below me.

No one saw me crawl onto the warm shingles. There was going to be hell to pay for hanging up like that. There was going to be hell to pay no matter what I did. Keeping low and out of sight I searched for the monster on the roof.

I had to find it before I became something even worse.


	26. Growing Suspisions

AN: Hello once again, I hope everyone's week is going well. Thank you for reading and please enjoy the chapter:

***Blakes POV***

I could barely move. Purple-red roots twisted over my walls, covering pictures and symbols alike. The pulsing fibres dug through the skin on my arms. I ripped myself away from the hungry roots, only to be coated in dust and dirt from the shivering ceiling.

"Blake, get a hold of yourself!" there was a hulking beast shaking me by the shoulders and yelling my name.

I don't know what's here and what's not. I don't have time to figure it out. There was another earthy thud from the crumbling building around me. Miles and his devil weren't at the door any more, I think I saw them slither into the kitchen but they disappeared.

"Let go of me!" I changed strategy and tried to push the thing away.

I managed to stagger back a step or two without getting wrapped up by the fibres on the wall. I fell a little but pushed myself up before the beast came down on me.

It new my name, but I wasn't about to stop and listen to it. There was another person talking in here, but she was gone now. I don't know what that meant, but I wasn't going to take the time to figure that out either.

I hadn't even reached the front door before there was another heavy crash. Someone was outside, there was panicked yelling coming from the other side of the door. It wasn't safe in here and it wasn't safe out there. I needed to pick one.

I wasn't going to wait for Miles to get back and I wasn't going to wait for him to bring the rest of that hellish cult after me. My hands ached and the beast that had tried to hold me down was coming after me. Desperately I wretched the locks from their place and sent the door swinging wide on its hinges.

There were people out here. More noise came from the roof. Pebbles and small stones tumbled to the ground, a few of them stung as they bounced off of me before hitting the floor.

I barely made it a step from the house when something heavier came down with the debris from the roof. I banked to the left to narrowly avoided running into the thrashing mess on the ground. The people in the distance had started yelling but their words were buried under earthy rumbles and harsh sounds of snapping.

It was Miles again. There was a deformed and thrashing creature underneath him. It could have once been a bird, but where there should have been wings there were limbs of stone and scales. It had to be ten feet wide, maybe bigger. Five heads made to attack the monster shrouded in shadow above it. The deformed buzzard looked at me for a second before the focus went out of its eyes. Guts covered in milky white puss dangled from its chest and wrapped around razor like talons. Was that the demons natural state, or had Miles ripped it in two like he had the demons at the apartments?

I didn't have long to think about it, or to listen to the dying hisses of the monster before something from behind took me off my feet. I twisted and flailed, the people in the distance were moving now. Some of them away from the house and fighting monsters. A few of them sprinted towards me.

"No, go away!" were they blind? It wasn't safe here.

There was a rash of staic by the time one of them had run up to me. I wasn't sure when I had crossed the ground but I was on the driveway leaning on a car.

"Mister Langermann, get in the car!" I don't know who said it. There was too much yelling to figure it out.

The staic was getting louder, I couldn't help but look for the source. I needed to know where to run away from. The front of my house was painted in a sickly off white. Between me and the battered building stood a pale monster. It's waxy limbs too long for its body, its eyes were hungry black voids with little pinpoints of light struggling not to be swallowed by the dark. A shivering black currant wrapped itself around the things body and rolled across the ground towards me and the car.

Into the car! The door was already open, I dove through it and slammed it shut behind me. More doors slammed around me, I buried my face in the seat not wanting to look death in the eye as it came for me.

"What the fuck is that?" a man was yelling.

"Drive!"

The static nearly drowned out the rumbling of an engine. I didn't dare look up.

"Shots fired, multiple officers down. Suspect is on scene, armed and extremely dangerous!" detective Morris?

The static faded just slightly.

"Get to the station, it's too dangerous out here." agent Sorenson.

I shook while I pushed myself up from the seats. I was inside a car. An SUV. I made the mistake of looking out the back window. There was a man out there. A man, not a monster with bone like limbs and paper skin. A man, but maybe a monster too.

Agent Lopez was in the driver's seat, the detective sat next to me in the back. Agent Sorenson sat in the passenger's seat.

"Blake" I jumped at the sound of my name "calm down."

It was Morris talking to me. I shifted to buckle my seat belt. The simple but familiar action helped me calm down a tiny amount.

"I'm ok. I'm here" I had lost it back there. I knew it, but I was still alive, and that's what mattered.

"What happened back there?" It was Sorenson who asked from her place in the front seat.

"I… uh. You won't believe

me." they never did.

"You never know" Lopez spoke from behind the wheel. There was still a hint of good humor to his words. How he was still in a good mood after that disaster I have no idea.

"Guys, can't this wait until we at back to the station?" Morris tried to stop the conversation. I was thankful for the attempt, but I was thinking straight now. It was only a matter of time before I had another episode. There was so much going on that I might not walk away from the next one.

"It's fine. You won't believe me, no one ever does. But if you really want to know: the guy that jumped off the roof was Miles, you already met him but he said his name was Wallace. He's been stalking me for the past week, I think he's one of the Rainmakers. Also, there are literal otherworldly monsters out there. I don't know what you saw, and I know that sounds crazy, but the black smoke was some sort of demon, the bird that fell off the roof was also possessed by something."

I could have gone into a thousand other little details, but why?

"I believe you Blake." Agent Lopez responded to me.

Sure, make me feel better. Thanks for trying.

"Detective, what do you have to say about this?" Sorensen asked for a second opinion.

"Well… there's definitely something going on here. I might even believe that Miles has ties to the cult. But I just can't make the jump to the supernatural."

He was an honest man, even when it wasn't good for him.

"I dunno detective, that bird from the roof looked pretty fucked up. And Miles or Wallace or whatever his name is, did just jump off a roof and then cut his way through an armed line of police. I know I shot him at least once, it didn't seem to slow him down."

"That doesn't prove what Mister Langermann is saying."

"I'm just saying, we can't prove that Blake is wrong and stranger things have happened."

Wait a second. Did he actually believed me?

"Lopez, that's not how arguments work. You need proof."

"The proof is that I saw a man jump off a roof, rip what looked like a five headed stone bird in half, and then he used shadows that came out of his body to kill the guy next to me. I think that's a good enough case."

Oh my god, he really did believe me!

"Maybe it's some kind of machine? The shadows could have been a smoke bomb." Morris was offering a different explanation.

"No. No, Lopez is right. I promise you. The black smoke you saw belonged to a demon called the Walrider. It's been possessing Miles this entire time. It makes him fast and impossibly strong and," maybe bringing up that burnt hellscape that Miles dragged people into was a bit much to bring up now, "and I think that the Rainmakers have been manipulating it somehow, or maybe it's the other way around, I don't know."

The car kept on at a steady pace, a couple of police cruisers with lights flashing passed us. A couple of SWAT trucks followed closely behind.

"What do you know about the connection between Miles and the Rainmakers?" Agent Sorenson spoke before anyone else got the chance.

"Nothing. Not really. He told me he found an apartment where they were staying, but I never saw it."

"And you didn't think to tell me or Morris?"

"Well, no. I... It just seemed-"

"Agent, we should be having this conversation at the station. Not in an SUV" Morris stepped in to shield me from the agents questions.

She ignored him.

"Why were you so defensive about the film negatives when me and agent Lopez visited your house?"

"I wasn't… Miles took them. But I couldn't tell you that."

"Why not."

"Because you would have started interrogating me like you are right now!"

"Calm down, both of you. I don't want anyone to say anything until we get back to the station."

"I don't know detective, this seems like something we need to get out in the open."

I was about to talk again but something hit the windshield with a sickly thud.

"Gahg, where did all of these come from?" half a dozen fat locusts splattered against the glass.

The car stayed on course, but the cloud of bugs didn't lessen at all. The flow of traffic slowed and I could barely see the tail lights of the car in front of us through the green and yellow splatters on the windshield.

I had been walking along long ago forgotten train tracks They were impossible to balance on, so high in the air, so many fat bugs on the wind. The moon was shining light down from above.

I closed my eyes. Breath. You're not there.

The car was only crawling now, it had gotten dark in the cabin from all the jittering insects that coated the windows.

There was slight groan and grinding noise. Agent Lopez turned on the windshield wipers before getting the car back up to speed.

"Gross…" he muttered as most of the bugs failed to get out of the way of the blade.

"Lets just get to the station." Agent Sorenson spoke from the front.

There had to be a hundred different things she wanted to ask me, but she bit her tongue.

I wasn't looking very good in the current situation. She probably thought I was hiding something. I was. Kind of. I shifted in my seat and tried not to look guilty. It would only be a matter of time before someone found my car out in Temple Gate. I should probably just tell someone I had gone out there. That was stupid, they already didn't believe me, saying anything about Murkoff or more demons wasn't going to help my case. I'm pretty sure Sorenson thinks that I'm working with the Rainmakers too.

Had I been? Things have been worse ever since I got back to town. For all I knew that was my fault too.


	27. Too Late?

AN: Hello again, I hope everyone's week has been good so far. On a side note we are getting pretty close to the end of the story; I'm planning on 30 chapters ( _maybe_ 31) plus an epilogue, just FYI. In the mean time, please enjoy this longer than usual chapter:

***Blake's POV***

The parking lot was nearly empty of police cruisers. I didn't have to imagine where they had all gone. The swarm of locusts had thinned ever so slightly by the time Agent Lopez parked the car. The four of us still had to swat away the buzzing insects while we ran the thirty feet across the lot and into the building. There was no one sitting at the receptionist desk in the front, Detective morris simply unhooked a ring of keys from his belt and let us into the back instead.

I was still swatting a few plump locusts off of my arms by the time I was shown into a room in the back of the station.

It didn't look like your stereotypical interrogation room. The walls were painted a warm brown and the seat had a cushion on it. There was a plant in the corner. None of it made me fail to notice that there was a camera set up in the corner of the room. There large mirror on one wall was another a dead give away.

I turned around to make a comment to the detective and agents behind me but the door shut before I got a word out.

Well ok then.

I took my time to look around the room. It was perfectly ordinary. I should stop being so paranoid, Miles was half a dozen miles away and I was literally in the middle of a police station. There was no way for him to get in ere or for anyone else to either.

Expect for the demons. They could come through the walls or climb into the minds of anyone in the building. There was no way for me to get away from them. They weren't locked out, I was locked in.

No, that line of thinking isn't going to get me anywhere.

I took a seat. I needed to figure out what to say to the agents. Lopez believed me, that was a miracle. I couldn't just lay everything out on the table though, that would make me sound beyond crazy. I was never a talker and I was as charismatic as a bag of boiled potatoes. I need to come up with a plan before I open my mouth.

The door swung open the moment I finished the thought. So much for coming up with a plan.

It was Agent Sorenson. She had a manilla folder and notepad in her arms. She sat them on the table before taking a seat opposite of me.

"Mister Langermann, you're not being charged with anything. Not now at least. I just have some questions for you."

"Sure, right." I didn't look her in the eyes, wait no, that made me look guilty. Guilty of what, I haven't done anything? I jerked my head up anyways. Oh, that looked like a nervous twitch. You're overthinking it. Clam down.

"Good. We just came from your home, correct?"

"Yes"

"And were you being held there against your will?" she was leading this conversation somewhere I wasn't sure I wanted it to go.

"Well… you were there. I mean yes, against my will."

"Right, did you know the man who was keeping you captive?"

"I already told you all of this in the car."

"I'm only getting everything on record. Please answer the question" I didn't like the fact that there was a record now.

"Ok fine. I knew the guy."

"How so?" she had taken to writing down notes on the pad. I couldn't quite make out the handwriting given the angle and the old prescription on my glasses.

"He showed up at my work nearly a week ago. He's been stalking me this past week."

"What is his name?"

Where was she going with this?

"The name he gave me was Miles Upshur"

"Agent Lopez and I came to visit your home earlier in the week. A man calling himself Wallace Rider interrupted the visit, are Miles and Wallace the same person?"

"Yes."

"Had he been stalking you before that time?"

"As far as I know."

"Why didn't you say something when Agent Lopez and I were at your house?"

Ah, so that's what she was building up to.

There's no reason to lie when the truth works just fine, "I feared for my life."

"We were there for some time before Miles came into the house, why didn't you say anything then?" She still scribbled notes and kept an even tone, although the look in her eyes said she had me backed into a corner.

"...I thought he was watching me?" there was the moment that it all fell apart.

"And why would you think that?"

To start gibbering about demons now would be crazy. To do anything else would mean looking guilty for something I didn't do.

"I, just… um. I don't know." I wasn't helping myself.

"Before we arrived at the station you told me that Miles had found the dwelling of the so called Rainmakers, a group of serial killers. Is this true?"

"That's what he told me."

"But is that you told me while we were driving here?"

"Yes. It is" I was shifting in my seat. I tried to stop myself but the stillness probably seemed strange so I started shifting on purpose. No, that was too exaggerated. Just act natural.

"Why didn't you call the police?"

"I already told you. He was watching me. I was scared."

"Yesterday Detective Morris payed a visit to your home. He reported that the two of you held a brief conversation outside the front door of your home. Is that correct?"

"Morris came by. A friend of mine called the station for a welles check. That's it."

"But he did come by?"

"I just told you he did."

"He then said that he invited you to come back to the station to talk, you then refused the invitation. Is that also correct?"

"Fine, so he asked. Just because I didn't go with him doesn't mean I did anything."

"I never said that you did anything wrong. I just want to know what you know." she continued scribbling. I had a sinking feeling deep in my gut. This wasn't going well. I don't like being crammed into a back room and waiting around like a lamb for the slaughter. There were monster out there. Sure they hadn't found a way into the building. But how long would that last. Miles hadn't seen where I went, but he had been following me around all week. I don't think that he would have any trouble figuring out that I had gone to the police station.

"I already told you. Miles is a monster. You don't believe me. Detective Morris doesn't believe me."

"I'm only looking for answers. Agent Lopez expressed interest in your theories about the Rainmakers and Miles. Would you like to speak to him instead?"

"Sure."

So it was going to be good cop, bad cop. I guess I shouldn't be that surprised, it was a common tactic. It got results.

Sorenson nodded before standing. The manilla folder stayed on its place on the table, but the notepad went with her and out of the room. In the moment I was left alone I couldn't help but look at the camera in the corner, I even twisted around to get a look at the obvious one way window. I wonder who was back there. Probably Morris and Lopez, maybe some other officer or office worker that I had never talked too as well.

She said that I wasn't being charged with anything. At this point I might welcome the idea of prison. At least that would put walls between me and any other people. Although the demons would still get me, so that wasn't an option either.

I hadn't righted myself in the seat by the time the dark haired agent came into the little room.

"Hey Blake, you wanted to talk to me?" he casually slid into the chair.

"I think agent Sorenson wanted me to talk to you." I rolled my eyes a little with the comment. It was obviously a good cop, bad cop thing.

"Ha, I bet. She has a way with people, don't you think?"

He was playing nice and I knew it. That carefree air to him that made him awful to deal with in the field made it easier not to be so guarded. And he did genuinely believe that there was something supernatural going on, so I didn't feel quite so ridicules talking to him.

"Sure, whatever you say"

"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?"

He leaned on the table. I moved back a little, just to put some space between me and the table. Why? I looked guilty and felt guilty, I just hadn't actually done anything to deserve it.

"I don't want to talk about anything" I should look him in the eye. I should stop staring a hole through the table at least.

"You sure about that Blake? Why don't you tell me how this all started? Walk me through what you were thinking."

This was going nowhere.

"Fine. I was at work. Miles showed up asking about a story I had worked on. Then he started showing up at my house, he even followed me into this very station while I was dropping off some pictures."

There was a little beat of silence from Lopez before he spoke again, "when was he here?"

"Later last week, Friday I think."

"Excuse me for a minute" he was halfway to the door when he spoke. He didn't wait for any kind of response before the door slammed shut behind him.

Well, that wasn't the kind of reaction I was expecting.

Being left alone again I couldn't help but wonder what was in the manilla folder. It bulged at the sides and strained against the little metal clip that held it shut. I had a sinking feeling that it didn't hold any good news.

***Miles's POV***

I had left the corpse littered street a second after the last car pulled away. There were people inside the neighboring houses. Soft blue currents of fear drifted in the wind, they were the only things to focus on after the last echoes of gunfire faded.

Blake was gone. I couldn't let it stay that way. There had to be more foolhardy men on their way. There was never just one wave of them, they always kept coming. There was no end to them. There was no end to the monsters hiding in the shadows either. I pulled the sticky white remains of the demon on the road from the jacket. It came away pink, mixed with the blood of the men on the ground.

I needed more. This wasn't enough, there was no such thing as enough, not any more.

The neighborhood gave way to a main street. People buzzed by - safe in their cars. They had no idea of the graveyard I left behind me. It was such an easy thing to rip a car door open on its hinges. A passing sedan slowed slightly as it passed me.

There was a shock of tangy surprise. It was never enough. I made a grab for the rear door with a loose cloud of swarm that I hadn't bothered to reign in. There was no point to hiding anything now. Let the whole world know. It wouldn't be my problem in a week. We would either all be too dead to care or I would be untouchable.

A pane of glass shattered and the little car's engine roared. I had my hand wrapped around the things handle before something more solid rumbled through the disappearing traffic.

I let go of the little car. There was a real challenge over there. It's been too long since I had something fight back. A pack of fiends here, a corrupt corporate executive there. They weren't a threat. They weren't fun.

The little blue sedan speed away, a stern black armoured truck took its place.

There was a noise coming from it, something over a speaker, probably a warning.

No time to waist. I sent a thick line of swarm around the truck. It was so much easier to move in the cloud. The stinging beads of metal in the air spelled home for me. There were heavier slugs of lead whipping through the air. A couple hit me in the shoulder. It didn't matter. None of it matters.

The gray layer of calm that could have only been brought on my months of training chipped and cracked in my own gray tide. I clawed at the flat steel of the truck. There was a little slit with a barrel poking through it. Hot red anger bubbled through it, I poured swarm through the little opening.

The voice on the intercom was gone. A chorus of muffled screams echoed from inside the metal car. There was another meaty thud in my back.

I would deal with them in a moment.

The back door to the car under attack flung open, a man fell to the ground, most of his skin scrubbed away by the Walriders lead body. I stepped over his screaming and leaking frame.

There were seven more men inside, all armed and armoured. Most of them were bleeding from under their face masks. I slammed the door behind me. The light in the cabin became nothing more than wishful thinking, the swarm popped the lights extinguished the falling sparks.

I watched the targets dance in the dark. Three were on the ground ripping away their glasses and gear, one struggled with his rifle. It went off and planted a slug in his friends belly. The red anger was shaded with shades of terror and panic. I reached for the nearest man.

He was screaming they were all screaming. I must have been screaming too. The world was dark and I watched all of the mans hopes and dreams drain from his mind. He had worked so hard to get here today and now it was over in an instant. They were all so frail; there were so many deaths waiting to happen.

The first man fell to the ground, his eyes turned to mush and smeared against the inside of his goggles. Someone shot another round, the sound blocking out that of static and screams. I never liked guns, they hurt.

He was the next to go, arms ripped from their sockets and used to rip into their owners guts. Two more men choked on the swarm as it forced its way down their throats and through the soft spongy tissue of their lungs. I took a second to savor the feeling of a shredded stomach and pureed liver. The pain and shock that filled the man's last moments was something I needed to savour.

When the men stopped moving I pulled back the beads of lead. The thick black haze snapped ribs and cut skin and sinew to ribbons before ripping kevlar and snapping thigh plastic armour.

There were only two more targets left in the blackened van. I saw one trying to save the man he'd shot. The other cowered in the corner cradling a pistol that would do him no good. It felt like I paused to taste the air for years but the men did not move, the lines of scarlet fear and pulsing brown dred didn't move from their place. It couldn't have been more than a second before my hand was around the cowering mans neck. I tightened my grip and slid it up his throat. Skin came away and I dug my fingers into the throbbing muscle. I left the fibre vibrate while he tried to scream. There was a hissing as the raw muscle cooked on contact with beads of the swarm.

For a few fleeting seconds I watched the man's eyes dart back in forth in panic and pain, desperately looking for escape. He would fine only one.

I dug my fingers deeper and gripped harder. The straining tendons gave way and I held his jaw in my hand. One solid tug was all it took to pop the fibres of muscle and wretch the bone from its place. He was still alive when the lower half of his face slapped against the gore slicked ground. There were only a few seconds of terror left in his mangled head before the rest of him crumbled to the ground in a dieing heap.

That wasn't enough. None of it was ever enough. There was still one more man left alive in the van. He was cradling the wretch that he shot in a panic. Could he hear me coming up behind him in the dark? Or did the ringing of gun fire and echoing static hide my approach.

Whatever it was he didn't have the time to stand before I dug a hand and streams of swarm into his shoulder. I took my time with the last man left alive.

I wish that there was enough light in here for him to see the powdered remains of his friends. The heavy scent of copper and iron in the air was unmistakable, but the surge of terror and disgust that came with the sight of death was a treat. The darkened metal box grew a layer of soft red ash. The last man tried to run, plastic sections of his armour warped and twisted in the heat. Beads of hissing metal dug deeper into his spasming muscle, ripping hidden memories from their forgotten corners.

The numbing grief of losing an aged relative, the sting of betrayal from a cheating partner, a dash of pride from buying a home. I watched a dozen little scenes of life flick by. They began to slow as my lead arm ripped deeper, the details grew to a blur as the last bits of life drained from the man.

His thoughts flickered away to nothing. The soot drifted from the walls and shards of metal tore away from the lifeless body on the ground. The body lay in a puddle of his teammates remains and was covered in steaming burnt patches.

There were more outside. There were always more. I hear them gathering around the van, dragging the dead man outside away. They were desperately trying to bring him back to life, there was a second of hope from one of them. The soft sweet emotion stood at odds with the rest of the tense and heavy air. The sweet little stream trickled to nothing, they must have gotten a second look.

Besides the armed men, there was another force gathering in the air. It wasn't the trail I followed from the house, it was something coming here, not running away. I stood at the rear doors, waiting.

A low hum grew from the silence. Not long after I noticed it there was a hint of commotion from the men outside. Pale green annoyance threaded its way into my darkened metal box. The out of place emotion grew with the hum. Hundreds of little things hit the outside of the van, the men outside were scattering, withdrawing to somewhere else. Whatever was in the air was some unthinking mass.

I threw the doors open. Immediately, a dozen fat locusts crashed against me. I used a swarm of my own to clear a path through the bugs. There were more men here, I could feel them. Confused by the mess of bugs, horrified by the dripping van I left behind me. They wouldn't be enough. It was never enough.

I turned the annoyances in the air to mush on the ground as I walked on. There was something I needed to do. What was it? A ghost of something deeper and more tempting clung to the air on the other side of these locusts.

Never mind the distractions in the other van. They were all the same, not like the thing that seemed to call like the song of a siren.

A cloud of hot lead flowed around me while I walked. The cars were stopped on the streets, I idly crashed the glass from a few of their windows as I passed. I strolled down the center of the road taking time to savor fleeting moments of panic from the people inside of their cars. A few tried to drive through the cloud of bugs, they were slow. It didn't take much of the swarm to kill the power in those cars. There was no reason to devour them all, just a few random drivers along the way. I couldn't help but have my mouth twist into a smile at the confusion bubbling up from the survivors.

By the time the locusts started to clear a few sirens had began going off around town. Were they for little old me, or was someone else trying to hunt in my domain? The irresistible thing a few miles away was getting easier to pinpoint. I continued on my way, passing few cars as I went. Some of the ones that came in and out of view had been abandoned, their owners having fled the ominous dark cloud.

There was a man in the distance, he stood slightly behind a stalled sedan and didn't move when the swarm closed in around him.

"Oh god, no not again..." I tried to gut him with a line of swarm, but the hot lead passed through his pale cloths and skin.

Who are you?

There was something disant about the fear in his eyes, like he was reliving an old memory instead of seeing some fresh monstrosity. I took my time walking to him, though he didn't flinch while I did.

"Not again..."

The skin around his neck oozed a silver gray, the rest of him looked like it had been coated in a fine dust. There was no real emotion coming off of the thing, it was just a hollow shell of what it had been. I remember this man. I killed him nearly a year ago, those were the days.

I walked past the spectre. More clogged the side of the road, a few occasionally dipped into the swarm and then drifted out. They were nothing but thin distractions from my target. I was getting closer, I felt it in the air. The sirens were coming from all around now; all of them going to different corners of the city.

Going to different corners of my city.

***Blake's POV***

The room had settled into an uneasy sience after Agent Lopez slammed the door shut behind him. Why was the news that Miles had been to the station so exciting? What did it mean? My foot tapped against the ground, I needed to be running away and hiding, not sitting in a locked room.

" _You're right, this room really isn't secure."_

I rocketed up from the seat, bashing my knee on the table in the process. I didn't think of it much while I stumbled to the door. I ripped at the handle only to find it locked. There was no escape that way. A window? Air vent? Something? I twisted around to look around the room.

A monster I had seen before hung in the corner. Most of it was a cloak like cloud with occasional lines of scales twisting in and out of view. A single skeletal hand was the only thing that wasn't a smokey gray or muddled green.

" _It looks like you're in quite the predicament."_

"Detective Morris! Agents!" were they even watching right now. Was anybody out there?

" _I'm not sure what you think they're going to do. You're the only one who can even see me right now."_

"What do you want?"

" _I'm not here to do anything to you, not right now at least. I was looking for the Alp and his host, but that appears to be asking to be killed."_

I wasn't about to let my guard down around this thing, I leaned against the door and kept a hand on the knob, "I'm guessing that you mean Miles?"

" _Is that his name? Actually it's of no importance, never mind. I was going to tell him that I opened a rift big enough for him to use."_

Rift, that sounded like Rainmaker talk, "Use for what? What are the Rainmakers doing this all for?"

" _Who?"_

Was it stalling? I tried the door again, nothing.

"That cult. I know they got to Miles, or maybe he was working with them from the start. You were at one of the murder scenes."

" _There was a group opening up rifts a few months ago. Murkoff I think, but your Miles put a stop to that. I don't know what you're talking about."_

I glanced past the hovering creature. Was anyone watching through the glass. Where was Agent Lopez?

"Murkoffs gone, out of business. I'm talking about the gang of murderers that came to town a week ago."

" _Sorry, it's just been the Alp and Miles, though they haven't been conjuring anyone directly. Except me, of course, but that was a desperate grasping at straws more than anything else."_

Just Miles. I pushed against the door a little more. It was him the whole time? There was never a second group? No, there had to have been. This thing was lying to me, it was a literal demon, that's what they do. I think that's what they do.

But then again, I had never seen any cultists. They weren't at Temple Gate, they never left any evidence behind. Was it really so far fetched to say Miles was behind it all?

He told me he killed his way through Murkoff. He was proud of the fact. I saw the side of my house, painted in gore and guts. I saw the Murkoff footage. Miles did that, he did all of it.

" _It really is a shame, the Alp has always been so interesting to watch. That human really did a number on him, and the Dreamer infection isn't helping either."_

Dreamer infection. Miles had written down something about that in the notebook he left at my work. Was that real? Half the time I was seeing things, half the things I heard were lies. What was there left for me to believe?

" _Oh well, if you see the two of them and they're actually capable of listening, tell them I opened up a rift on the north side of the city."_

My head still spun from the last piece of news, "Why did you do that?"

" _And here I was thinking that you two were accomplices. The human had this idea that he was going to stop the Hunt before it even started. A foolhardy idea, but entertaining, so I agreed to help him out: for a price._

I didn't even want to ask what the price was going to be.

"I'm not… Actually… I'm not going anywhere near Miles right now."

" _Prudent of you. Though, if you want to stay away from him I would advise leaving."_

You don't say. I jiggled the handle again, nothing had changed.

" _Well that's unfortunate. Have fun, maybe if you're lucky you'll die quickly. I suppose the Alp isn't the worse way to go, what with everyone else who's running around out there."_

"Everyone else?"

" _I already told you. I opened up a rift, a big one too. If it stays open too much longer I wouldn't be surprised if the whole Hunt comes through. That would be a site for sore eyes. A few dead spirits are already leaking into this world."_

Too much. There's too much going wrong. I let go of the handle and took to pounding on the door instead, "Detective Morris? Agent Sorenson! Someone let me out of here! Please?"

" _Do try to stay in one piece, it would be a shame to have your talents go to waste. In the meantime have fun. I know I will."_

Nope. I hit the door even more frantically. I don't know what kind of agenda that thing has, and I don't want to know.

I couldn't have been at it for more than a minute, but it felt like a life time before the door clicked open.

"Jesus Blake, calm d-" I ran passed however it was.

I stood panting in the back half of an empty office area before stealing a glance behind me. There was no otherworldly creature there anymore. Instead there was just a confused looking agent Lopez standing with his hand still on the door knob.

"What are you doing?" he asked me in a way that was much to calm for the situation.

"We need to leave. Now." no time to explain.

"Sorry, no can do." he shut the door and walked over to me.

"This isn't the time for being calm. We need to get the hell out. It's not safe here, it's not going to be safe anywhere. This is it, this is the end. The apocalypse, or the hunt, or whatever the hell you want to call it is starting. Let's go." I rushed a few steps through the cubicles and desks before the agent caught up with me.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on for a second-"

"No!" I wasn't going to hold on. The longer we waited the longer Miles or some other monster had to show up. The whole department looked like it was out of the station, did that mean there were too many emergencies to keep up with? What was going on out there. Never mind, I don't want to know.

I would have hurried out of the room but when I reached the office doors I found agent Sorenson waiting on the other side of them.

"Blake, slow down." Lopez trotted up behind me.

"Mister Langermann, please go back to the-"

A bone shaking crash cut off the rest of her sentence

I didn't have time to tell the agents that we needed to run before a familiar black cloud started seeping into the room. The steel doors that lead to the entrance burst inward and landed on the ground with a heavy thud. A piece of the black cloud twisted into the shape of a starved looking man with no skin. The ghost in the dark disappeared into the meal storm as quickly as it had come. Scarcely a second later a solid man stepped into the room. My brain didn't get the chance to tell my legs to run. In the shivering darkness I could just make out two pinpoints of light that had to be eyes. The shadow of a skinned and starved man clung to Miles's shoulders, the lower part of its body was nothing but tattered shreds that melted into the rest of the swarm.

Lopez spun around to face the source of the noise just in time to come face to face with a set of glowing eyes.

Run.

"Just uh… calm down for a second Miles"

Run!

I wasn't watching Miles and the agent anymore.

I'm not sure when I started moving, I'm not sure when I grabbed Agent Sorensen's arm. I'm not sure what was happening behind me, but I did know that it was too late for me to do anything.

"Let me go!"

There was more indistinct yelling behind her. I don't want to look back. I don't want to see what I knew had to be happening.

Agent Sorenson shook my off for a second. Heavy gun shots cut through the hissing sound of static. She had to be able to hear that too, right? There was no way it wasn't really there. The yelling stopped. The deep rumble of the gun gave out after a few shots.

"Come on!" I didn't turn around.

I didn't wait either. I wasn't going to do anything useful.

A glowing red exit sign hung from the ceiling on the other side of the room. I rushed through the door that stood underneath it. It didn't have the chance to swing shut before someone came through it behind me.

Static still hung in the air and my ears still rang from the noise of an indoor gun shot. I didn't slow down or dare to turn around. A trail of red signs led me down a back hallway. I had to get out. It wasn't safe. It wasn't safe anywhere.

I threw open a heavy metal door only to find myself in an alley behind the station.

The air itself was hot and felt like a physical weight. There was a heat wave blowing through town, but this was too much even for that.

No time to stop now, I need to hide.

"Blake, slow down!"

The door slammed shut, I spun around with the sound of my name. It was agent Sorenson.

"No time to stop. We need to get out of here."

She looked like she was about to say something before thinking better of it. She had a gun in her hands, she must have been the one doing the shooting. Lopez wasn't with her. I didn't have to imagine what happened.

I made to leave the alley. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know anything anymore.


	28. Familiar Faces

AN: Hello again, I hope everyone's weekend was nice. On a side note, I have some... interesting developments planned for this week, please enjoy:

***Blakes POV***

Going to the main road was a terrible idea.

I was just about to step out of the alley when the same hisses and shrieks from the apartments made me stop in my tracks.

"What are you doing?" Sorenson nearly bumped into my back.

I ducked down a little and took a step backwards. One of the red eyed things with broken glass jutting out of its body was coming down the street.

I could be seeing things, but I wasn't going to take that chance. I lifted a finger to my lips to try to tell Sorenson to be quite. Could she see that? Assuming there was even anything to see.

Her eyes narrowed at me, like she was suspicious that I was trying to pull something. Despite that, it looked like she was going to just go with it this once, until a scream from the street split the air.

Hisses and chirps joined the noise, it sounded like a whole pack of the things were closing in on the street. Sorenson was out of the alley in a second, gun drawn and leveled ready to fire.

"Damn it!" I whispered to myself.

She was going to get herself killed just like Lopez had. Just like everyone else had.

I have to at least try to be useful this time.

Before I thought better of it I took a step out of the alley and tried to grab the agent. I couldn't help but see three more of the multi armed monsters ripping into the guts of a confused man. Exposed pink muscle from the demons had been coated with deep red blood from the doomed man. Bits of broken glass cut into the his limbs with each new attack. Even if we could do something about the demons, that man was tripping over his own guts and bleeding out across the pavement. There was no saving him.

"Sorenson. Please! It's too late!" I tugged at her arm.

She was speechless for a moment, a jagged line of glass split the man's throat. His screams turned into a wet gurgle and he dropped to the ground.

"What in…"

"Let's go!" they weren't going to be distracted forever!

She moved, finally. We went tumbling back into the alley. I kept walking. The street wasn't safe. The building wasn't either. Shit.

"We need to call an ambulance." was all the agent had to say from behind me.

"It's too late for him."

"We have to do something!"

"He was getting eaten alive, and if we don't get out of here, we're next. I know you don't believe me, but that doesn't matter. We need to leave."

She followed me while I spoke. At least that was a positive.

"What we need to do is call in backup."

"You don't get it. There is no back up, the whole city is like this. It's game over. We're doomed. The best we can hope for now is to die in a way that's not painful."

The other side of the alley was clear of monsters, though a murder of deformed crows lined the buildings.

"How do you know about the rest of the city?"

Was she really still trying to question me now?

"Because a literal demon from hell snuck into the police station and told me all about it. Ok? Does knowing make you feel better? Because it shouldn't. Nothing should right now. We are doomed. This is the end. We're fucked."

I tried the handle of a parked car. It came open with a tug, but a red-brown slurry poured out of the drivers side. This car wasn't going anywhere. I stepped out of the sludge. Shouldn't I be freaking out right now? Probably. Now was the time for it. But why did this all seem so familiar? Why did it seem like my hellish night in Temple Gate was the last time I was really alive? Maybe I lost a little bit of myself that night. Maybe I was just meant to be surrounded by all this awful shit. Maybe it's because that was the last night I had of my old life. The last night I had Lynn to come home to.

There was a moment silence from the agent. I can't blame her. There was no right thing to say.

"Did it just get cold?" I didn't expect her to say anything.

"What?"

"It's cold"

She caught me off guard, but she was right. I could see my breath, wasn't I just sweating? What the hell.

"Fine. It's cold. More apocolypse bullshit. I know you said you didn't believe me earlier, but you have to admit that shits getting weird."

"I can't explain everything, but that's no reason to-"

"Are you kidding me! You saw what happened to Lopez. I don't know what you saw in the street back there, but it had to be something pretty fucked up. What will it take to convince you that it's the end of the world?"

"Nothing, because that's impossible!" She lost her cool for just a second.

I was about to spit back an angry retort when something warm hit my forehead. I wiped away the thick liquid, only for my hand to come away with a rusty red streak.

Blood rain again. Really?

"Will that convince you?" sticky liquid with a sickening copper stench started coming down in waves.

"Let's find cover" was all she said in response.

Of course. There was another car to the side of the road. This one had a door handing open, there was no slurry of organs dripping out of it. It's driver must have made a run for it. I walked over to it and ducked in to avoid the storm.

Agent Sorenson slid into the passenger seat and shut the door behind her. It didn't take long for the windshield to be painted red.

I gestured to the stained glass "The end times. I told you so."

"This is strange, but there has to be a logical explanation."

"How could you possibly be saying that right now? Look outside!"

She couldn't because there was a solid red film across the glass.

I looked around the car, maybe there was a spare set of keys hidden in a glove compartment or in the visor. I opened the center console and suppressed a shiver. Why was it getting so cold? It had been burning hot out only a few minutes ago. The thick blood on the windows had started to glaze over into little frozen disks.

Damn it, the only thing in here was napkins and loose change.

I twisted to reach into the back seat and did my best to ignore the nagging ache that coated my arm.

There was someone back here.

I stopped.

Their skin was a pale silver-gray. Tattered cloths hung to their bruised body and hair that floated on a non-existent breeze was knotted into thick mats.

I had a thousand things I wanted to say, but none of the words found their way passed my racing heart.

"Blake? Hey, what are you looking at?"

Lynn.

"Are you listening to me?"

I closed my eyes and took three deep breaths. She wasn't real. Of all the things, of all the monsters flooding the streets, she wasn't allowed to be here. This was a place of nightmares, of death, and of pain.

I opened my eyes expecting to find an empty back seat.

"Are you just going to sit there or are you going to say hello?"

"Oh my god, you're actually here! Why? How? I mean, I know how. I think. Are you ok?" I spoke to her and she didn't disappear. Actually, her form grew slightly more solid with each passing moment.

"Slow down, I'm fine. Ok, maybe not. I'm dead. But I'm as fine as a dead person can be I suppose."

"Who are you talking to?" Agent Sorensen asked from the front seat. There was no time to waste on replying to her. Lynn was here.

I had a thousand things I wanted to say to Lynn, but none of them came to mind at the moment.

"I know it's hard to believe, I don't really know what's going on myself, but I'm back. For now at least."

The dead walking the earth was a sign of the apocalypse in the book of revelations. I don't care. Lynns back.

"At this point absolutely nothing would surprise me. Are you hurt?"

"I'm dead." she looked at me like the answer should be obvious off of that alone.

"I don't know what that means. Well, I do literally, but- Lynn you have no idea how bad it's gotten out here, maybe you do actually. There are demons in the street. It's raining blood, again. There's another cult. Some guy who's being possessed has been stalking me for the last week. The apocalypse is happening, you're back -somehow- and… I don't know anything any more. Are you ok?"

"Mister Langermann who are you talking to?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what? I don't know anything about that. I just got here. Who is she?"

"The FBI! They showed up because of the cult."

Lynn stopped to think for a moment. I don't know where to go from here, there was no key in the car. Driving would probably end in a crash anyway, visibility was down to zero. I wasn't getting out of this car for anything.

"Wait, I thought everyone at Temple Gate was dead." Lynn continued on after thinking for a second

"They are, I thought there was a new cult and so did the FBI, but it turns out there's only been one crazy guy. I think his name is Miles, but I honestly don't know anymore. And things have just been getting worse. I was trying to help everyone - really I was - and things got out of hand, I even considered suicide for a while, but then I realised that was a terrible idea. And I don't know, just… I'm sorry."

Words just tumbled from my mouth, Lynn tried to put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, but she wasn't very solid and it drifted into a thin mist at the slightest of touches.

"I can't really say it's going to be ok… but it can't get much worse." she did what she could to comfort me. I was grateful for the effort. I'd spent so many months beating myself up I didn't expect Lynn to have a kind word to say.

"It's not okay. I let you down. I let you die."

There was a second of confusion before Lynn spoke more boldly.

"No you didn't. I'm pissed that I died, sure. But you didn't do that. You nearly got yourself killed trying to find me, hell if there's anyone to blame it's the bastards in those caves."

"But… I…" I should have been there.

"Don't tell me you're blaming yourself for that, you always get like this. You did what you could, sometimes shit things just happen."

She was getting a little less solid with each passing word, the chill in the air drifted away as well.

"Wait, don't go. You're not mad?"

"Hell no. Well, not at you."

It was like a weight that I didn't even know I had been carrying lifted off of my shoulders.

"Mister Langermann, hello? Are you listening to me?" Sorenson was still here, I don't think it mattered.

Lynn wasn't mad. She never was. It was going to be okay.

"Umm, Blake? I feel weird."

She seemed a little fuzzy, like a picture that hadn't fully developed.

"Wait, don't go!" She couldn't leave now, she was dead, sure. But she had just gotten back. She can't leave now.

She was trying to say something else but I couldn't make it out over the noise of the blood rain tapping against the windows. As quickly as she had appeared the silver mist that been Lynn was gone completely from the car.

I need to get her back. I didn't even pause to sit in the front seat and think about it before opening the door and stepping into the steaming rain.

"Mister langermann, where are you going?" the agent followed me from the car, she sounded a little more nervous than before, the reality of the situation must finally be sinking in.

"A demon said there was some sort of rift open on the north side of town." if there was anywhere that Lynn would end up it was probably there.

I kept an eye out and made my way down the street. I wasn't going to lose her again.

***Miles's POV***

The air in here was stale and bland. A dead thing was on the ground, nothing more than a puddle of bile and shredded organs now. Where to next? A trail of fear and confusion lead out the back door. Whatever had left that, I needed it. I took a step. Some other thin silver form appeared before me.

Another annoyance. I whipped it away, only to have it reform again.

A stubborn spirit. It smelled like regret. I knew this person. I knew all of them. They spoke,

"Miles? What the hell is going on here?"

I knew all of them, but they didn't know me. I stopped to take a second look.

"Is that even you? What are you doing, where even am I?"

I didn't kill this one.

***Waylons POV***

The room was black, I think. It wasn't the gray and blue of the Zeichner facility, that much I knew. Connor and Garret were nowhere to be seen. Were they ok? Hadn't I just been shot?

"Are you listening? Whats going in here?"

Miles was surrounded by the swarm, safe to say he was still dealing with the Walrider. Wasn't I dead? Don't tell me he did something to bring me back.

"Can you tell me where Garret and Connor are?" he didn't move "hello?"

This was pointless, I tried to walk away. Something on the ground made a stomach churning squelch when I stepped on it. I've been here before, I don't want to think about it.

"Connor?"

I stopped at my son's name.

"What did you just say?" I went back to Miles "Is he ok? Where are they?"

I don't know if I was talking to the real Miles or not, maybe the Walrider had finally won out. I guess it doesn't matter all that much. Murkoff was dead, I needed to know about Connor and Garrett.

"Where are they?"

Miles said nothing else.

"Answer me!" things were coming back to me a little more. I remember the bullets ripping through my gut and tearing my lungs to shreds. I died there. I felt it. But Connor and Garrett were there, I know they were and I have to know if they're ok.

I was standing closer to Miles than I thought I had been, suddenly conscious of myself I stepped back a little.

"Just tell me that they're okay."

***Miles POV***

The kids are not alright.

I looked down slightly to see the ghost of a man I watched die.

The few words that had worked their way through my throat stopped to rest on my tongue. I breathed and the swarm swirled in and out in time with me. The trail leading out of the room still nagged for my attention, the air was cold and the scent of coppery blood hung on it. Whether that was real or the taste of a dying city I have no idea.

"Please, just tell me something"

I couldn't quite bring myself to wipe away the phantom. There was no point to it. I looked down at myself, there was no blood on these hands. I had wiped them clean on my trip through the streets, but they were stained all the same.

"No" I told Waylon no. I couldn't say anything, not about the kids.

It was almost beyond me but I pulled the swarm in again, brown-red stains grew where it faded away.

"I'm not taking no for an answer. I can't. I have to know that they're ok. Just tell me they're ok!"

Were they though?

I looked down, there were three neat bullet wounds on the man. I hadn't been in time. Not then, not with the boys, not with mount Massive either.

I had to be there now.

"Please!"

I nearly stepped away without saying another word.

 _You killed the boy, just get on with it._

"No" I said again, this time to the demon in my head.

 _But you did. Lie to yourself if you want to, lie to the father too. Or don't. You know I love it when people fall apart._

It wasn't a lie. I didn't kill Connor. I didn't kill Waylon.

 _If not them, then what about everyone else. So many people died. You know you enjoyed every last one._

"I didn't kill them!"

There was only a static laughter, even I knew I was lying to myself. There was blood on these hands.

"What did you do to Connor?" The phantom took a step back.

"Nothing." I was here now, back in the moment, "I didn't do anything to them"

 _How brave, lie to the man then._

"Miles, where are Connor and Garrett?"

"They're fine. They're in Iowa with your parents."

" _Oh yes, his parents. Never mind that you let his mother die too."_

Waylon jumped, "What was that?"

"Nothing." I couldn't tell him.

I had to leave. There was work to do, I need to be anywhere but here.

" _No, I think it's time that I get to speak, now that our old friend is finally in a place to hear_ _me."_

I stepped through wherever passed for Waylons body at this point.

My legs locked up before I reached the door.

" _Your child is dead, one of them at least, not that it matters in the long term."_

"What?" Waylon came towards me.

I was free to move again

 **What the fuck was that for.**

 _You keep treating me like a friend or a play toy, I just wanted to remind you that I'm neither._

"What!"

I made to leave the building, Waylon followed close behind.

"Don't listen to it, the Walriders a liar."

" _So are you"_

 **You're not helping!**

I stepped into a back alley behind the station. Hot and thick red liquid fell from the sky and painted the ground. There was something stirring in the alley to my left, I went towards it.

"Miles, what the hell did the Walrider mean!"

"Don't worry about it."

He followed me out of the alley.

A few fiends scattered from view, a dead man cut to pieces lie on the ground. They must have caught the poor bastard out in the open.

" _That's nothing compared to what we can do"_

"Not. Helping."

Waylon asked about his sons again. I could barely muster the emotions to do it, but my heart bled for him. I fucked up, there was nothing that could fix it now.

No, that was quitter talk. I might be piece of shit, but I didn't give up. Even when it was good for me.

"Waylon, I'm sorry. I know you don't have a reason to help me, hell you don't have a reason to even listen to a word I'm saying. But shits going down, and it may not mean anything coming from me, but I could use your help."

"Tell me what you did to Connor and Garrett!"

"Technically nothing"

" _Liar!"_

"Fine! Murkoff got to Connor, something like the Walrider got to him. I don't know if he's okay, Garret is. But if things keep going the way they are, he might not be for long."

I stepped over the dead man's remains while barely pushing down the desire to go running of after the fiends.

"You killed Connor." I was a statement, blinding emotions so potent I felt them from across the grave rode on the words.

"I don't know"

There was silence as I walked down the street. Waylon followed closely behind. The air thickened and I smelled something sweet the further north I went. A few sirens wailed in the distance and occasionally a crash rattled the air before being swallowed by the thick red rain.

"I know it's not fair." we should have won the first time. Waylon sacrificed himself for the greater good. Damn it! This shit should be over. Another crash shook the ground. A fresh current of fear stemmed from the same direction, I could use-

Stop it. You have a job to do.

"Waylon, I need help."


	29. Hear No Evil

AN: Happy Thanksgiving everyone. If you don't celebrate Thanksgiving then happy... mid-November I guess. Anyways I have officially decided that there will be 31 chapters + an Epilogue, just a heads up. Please enjoy the chapter:

***Waylons POV***

"You killed my son!" After a month of being on the run from a soulless mega corporation, after watching me die, after everything we had been through together, "What the hell Miles!"

"It was a complete accident, I don't even know if Connor is dead"

" _It sure looked like it when we left"_ A static voice came from the air around Miles. That must be the voice of the Walrider. I had never heard it before, though it brought back blinding memories of static filled air and hisses in blackened hallways. I would have shivered but the wind passed through me.

I remembered how it was to have my heart thundering with fear, but that memory was all I had left.

"You can't just tell me something like that and expect me to help you with whatever the hell it is you're doing." I followed him down the street regardless of what I had to say.

"I know this looks bad, but unless I do something right now it's going to get worse."

"I don't even know what's going on."

"Short version, Murkoff caused the apocalypse."

" _And we helped"_

"We did not. Just… just do me a favor and I don't know, talk to me or something. I need something to focus on."

The two of us walked along a blood drenched street. A few scattered screams sounded off here and there. I thought I saw Miles wince a little at each sound. I was obviously out of the loop here.

"Fine. Tell me what you did to Connor" If he really wanted to focus on something, then let him focus on that.

"Waylon, you don't want to hear it. Trust me."

"I think I do. I'm already dead - at least I think so. Just tell me."

"You know how you died?"

Something stirred in an alley we passed, I moved away from it out of caution.

"I think I do. I remember getting shot, the ground was cold and I couldn't breath. You showed up a second later, not that it did any good. Connor and Garrett were there. They were alive. I died bleeding on the ground, but as long as they're safe I would do it again. Don't change the subject on me. Where are they?"

The city street met with a high way, Miles turned left and walked down the center of it.

"I'm sorry. Murkoff did something to Connor. It was something similar to the Walrider project. Chealsy tracked down your parents address, I dropped the boys off with them. About a year later I was tracking down one of Murkoffs other experiments and it brought me back to Iowa. Long story short I ran into the boys and Connor was the host to some demon. I did what I could to get rid of it, but I don't know if Connor survived"

He wouldn't look me in the eye while he was talking.

"What do you mean you don't know?" How the hell could you not know something like that.

"It's complicated!" He yelled suddenly and glared at me before looking back at the ground and hunching his shoulders, "I did what I had to do and then left. It's probably for the better that I didn't stick around"

" _I say it's a shame we didn't"_

I didn't want to talk back to the thing that I couldn't see. The sound of its voice already set me on edge, I didn't want to think about what it was like to have that coming from inside my own head.

"So what," I continued talking to Miles, "you just ran in and… attacked my son?"

"No, I got in a fight with the demon that was using him as a host. I don't know if Connor survived, Garret is safe though. I know that for a fact."

I hope that wasn't supposed to make me feel better.

" _Safe for now, that is"_

I wasn't even going to touch that. I wasn't going to talk to something that killed people for fun.

"How long has it been?" I needed to know.

"How long since what?" Miles looked passed me and at a strip mall parking lot. I didn't want to turn around to see what had caught his attention.

"Since I died. Since you… just give me a time line." I suppose it doesn't matter, not really.

"I don't know. A year and a half maybe? That sounds about right. I was in Iowa a few months ago." he still had his sight set on the buildings behind me. We had stopped walking.

Over a year then. Connor would have just turned 9, Garret 12. Lisa and mines 15th anniversary happened a couple months ago.

Lisa.

"Miles. I'm not the only dead man walking. Am I?"

That wouldn't make any since. There had to be others, that means…

Miles didn't respond. There was some distant alien look in his eyes. Never mind that the rest of him was gaunt and pale. He didn't quite look like the deformed and mutilated men of the asylum, but he definitely wasn't the tanned athletic man he was when I had know him.

"Miles?" I almost didn't want a response.

Mile took a step passed me without saying another word. I didn't turn to keep sight of him. I'm not sure that I wanted to look at the thing that could have killed my son. The ground had grown slick under the heavy rain, there were shapes I couldn't make out crawling along the asphalt. One of them crawled over a car, the metal shook and a muffled scream came from inside. The screaming disappeared after a short while, something much more farell and much closer replaced it.

Occasional mad laughter bubbled through the shrieks and grunts. There was no use in standing here, I guess following Miles was my only option. A murderer or not, he was the only one that had a plan.

I turned around to follow the man only to find the road behind me empty.

"Miles?" great.

There was more movement that was nearly impossible to make out from under the red haze that covered the city. I went to the commotion, the moving things looked like people.

"Hello?"

Should I be scared?

Something fast and thin ran from between parked cars. A sedan a couple of rows over flew from its place and crashed into a pickup truck. A yelp like that of a dying dog was lost in the sound of twisting metal and shattering glass. Miles stood where the car had flown from, it was nearly impossible to see him between the black of the swarm and the red of the rain.

I didn't open my mouth, old instinct left me taking a step backwards.

Miles looked down and clenched a hand.

Was he missing an arm?

"We need to keep moving." I had to stain to hear him speak,

"...sure"

He hadn't waited for my response before turning around and moving back down the street. I had to jog a couple of steps to catch up. For a second the only sound was that of the falling rain. It didn't last long before the relative silence was crushed by a tremor in the ground and an ear splitting thunder. I looked for the source of the noise, past the red haze the silhouette of a building crumbled to the ground.

I walked a little closer to Miles.

***Blakes POV***

A pile of rubble cracked the pavement a yard to my left.

"Move!" Sorenson grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to the left. Off balance we fell to the wet ground. A boulder crashed against the asphalt where I had stood only a second before.

The both of us scrambled to standing only to have the nearest building lurch to the side. I pulled the agent off the ground the rest of the way and ran down the road. There were things watching from the alleys. A few more silvery phantoms hung in the air, I did what I could to ignore them. Sorenson was running on her own now, slightly behind me.

The ground still rumbled from the building hitting the earth. My lungs burned, I needed to stop for just a second. I rounded the corner of some shop. I hadn't caught my breath before something flew through the doors and crashed into my side. They yelled madness at me with a voice like gravel. I flailed in a futile attempt to push the person off of me. I must have been down there for an eternity before a heavy kick made the bloodied person's head snap back with a meaty thud. The limp body was heavy, Sorenson stood above me and helped to drag the unmoving man away.

"Thank y-"

"No time" she had pulled a handgun from her waist. I followed her line of sight, there were more people in that store. They wore that same fanatical look that the men and women of Temple Gate had. Two of them fought on the ground, ripping at each other like rabid beasts.

"You two, break it up!"

That wasn't going to help. I swallowed a quick breath before grabbing the agent and running again.

"It's too late for them" was all I offered as an explanation.

The movement must have been a signal because the hoard chased after me and Sorenson like hounds after two scared hares. The ground was wet and made for a sprint that was far too slow. I stole glances over my shoulder. How long did we have?

There could have been two dozen of them. I had my gaze locked over a shoulder when the glass of another building shattered and dusted the ground. A haze that twisted on air currents that weren't there poured from the inside of the building. The smoke seemed blue gray against the red and brown city. Fat watery blisters bloomed on my leg where the thick cloud met my skin. Sorenson nearly tripped, I reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder just in time to keep her from falling into the haze. We had gotten passed the store fronts before the street had completely flooded.

The mindless gaggle had been caught in the middle, though they paid no heed to the deadly smoke or their own growing wounds. A few fell to the ground and became targets to the others. A woman ripped at the throat of a man whose arms were nothing more than watery sacks of skin stretched to the point of being clear and filled with bone and bloated muscles. A few of them staggered through. Sorenson froze at the sight for just a second too long. Either a man or a woman - I couldn't tell for how bloated and blistered their face and torso were - staggered passed the edge of the smoke. They mockery of a person reached out, unidentifiable clear liquid coating half of their face, jagged edges of bone poking through waterlogged flesh. I tried to turn to grab the agent once again. I hadn't made it halfway to her before a gunshot rang in the air and the sack of liquid that used to have a life dropped to the ground.

The things that were still alive had a new target with the sound.

"Let's go!"

The haze itselfs twisted against the breeze. There was the shadow of a face in the cloud. It saw me. It was coming! Closer!

"Now!" I pulled Sorenson off balance and made for anywhere that wasn't here. It didn't take long for her to come back to her senses and run with me.

"Over there" she drifted to the side and down an alley before I had anything to say about it.

On the far end of the narrow corridor there was a dumpster sitting just beneath a fire escape. We needed to get away from the smoke.

"Follow me" I didn't have the time to stop and explain before hopping onto the metal bin and pulling myself of the rusty latter of the fire escape.

The agent followed close behind. We were wordless while we climbed as high as the escape would let us.

" _What an interesting turn of events"_

I nearly jumped from my skin at that deep wavering voice. Still gasping for breath from the climb I spun around to look off the other side of the metal platform. Floating just passed the guard rail was the demon Miles had brought into my house.

" _I hope you haven't run out of things to say. It's just getting interesting out there."_

"No, it's not! What you even doing here? Don't tell me…" I took a step backwards. I wasn't going to become something like Miles. I would jump before I let that happened.

" _Calm down, I'm not here for you yet."_

"What's that supposed to mean?" I didn't want an answer and I knew it.

"Mister Langermann, what are you doing?" Sorenson couldn't see.

" _Oh, where are my manners?"_

I didn't think that the thing became more solid or different in any way but the agents reaction told me otherwise.

The gun was back in here hand and a couple of bullets had split the air before the demon interrupted.

" _Typical."_

She stopped before the gun clicked empty, though my ears were still ringing from the sound

"I tried to tell you, but you didn't believe me."

" _Also typical."_

This thing wasn't helping but I wasn't about to talk back to it.

" _Anyways, onto the point. As fun as it is watching you two run for your lives I do have things that need doing, so if you would be so kind…"_

"Stop right there." The agent spoke up.

What the hell are you doing, just let the thing talk it out and leave. Don't try to stand up to these things, it never ends well.

" _Oh?"_

"I'm not doing a thing that you tell me to," she looked at me "at least not without a reason"

Was she actually looking to me for advice? That was a first, and she probably shouldn't be.

I didn't say anything and looked back to the floating monster instead.

" _How charming. Anyways, the Alp and his host are making their way to the rift. If I'm not mistaken that was your plan too."_

"I was going becau-"

" _Spare me the details. I just need you to do a favor for me when you get there."_

"Thats sounds like a terrible idea" Sorenson said from behind me.

It was.

But, "...I'm listening"

That was my only option right now.

"Mister Langermann…" the agent spoke from behind me.

I turned around and tried to tell her to just go with it. Apparently I looked pitiful enough because there was a second of silence before she nodded.

" _Very subtle. Anyways, I may have struck an agreement with your friend out there and I'm pretty sure he's planning to go back on his word."_

Lying? Sounds like Miles.

" _I do hate it when people double cross me, so I try to do the double crossing first. What do you say to getting rid of your little "friend" permanently?"_

That does sound tempting.

"You just said you're a liar. Why would we believe you?" I had to ask.

" _Believe me or not, it hardly matters to me. But, if you do what I ask -and succeed - you'll never have to deal with any of this ever again. Should you fail, well, things can't get much worse."_

I looked down to the alley below. The blue smoke reached to the second floor. I wonder how many people had drowned in their own fluids. I wonder how many people had been ripped to shreds by their friends and neighbors.

" _It would be such a shame to let him have free reign of the place, don't you think?"_

I had been worse than useless to everyone that's ever needed me. Didn't I owe it to someone to try one last time?

I looked at the demon. I don't trust that thing. I don't have many choices.

"I'm listening."


	30. Two Minutes to Midnight

AN: Happy Friday, hope everyone's holidays are good so far. On a side note, 90,000 words and counting (woo). Please enjoy the chapter:

***Miles's POV***

The rain had stopped but my feet stuck to the ground and had to be peeled away with every step. The world was painted in harsh lines of red anger and blue fear, I did what I could to focus on the ground as I walked.

"Say something" I spoke through gritted teeth. There were a couple of people cowering in gas station to the left, I clinched my hand hard enough for my nails to cut into my palms. I needed a distraction.

"...ok." Waylon's ghost hasistated. He was lucky there was no way for me to touch him, there were so many twisted memories I could take advantage of. The city felt like the asylum, it would be the easiest thing in the world to drag him-

I bit my tongue.

"What happened to Murkoff?" he asked from slightly behind me.

"I killed them." that's right, they deserved it too, "next topic"

"Ummm… did uh… did Chealsy ever get to publish the story?"

"Yes. Won a pulitzer too." A back of fiends whistled in the distance, a few lumpy ghouls clawed their way up a building to the east.

A moment of silence grew.

"Waylon…" I needed a distraction.

"I can't let it go. What happened to Connor?"

Memories of that day came to me:

I could touch it now, so much life, so much desperation, so much power, it all poured out from the gray demon and the boy beneath it. The swarm could finally stand up to the dieing storm. I reached out, little beads of cold lead reached into the beast and child, my hand came to grip something small and solid. The desperate hum in the air cut out, Conners screaming dropped to nothing and left only a distant echo hanging in the air.

I shook the memory from my head.

"I already told you" he didn't want to hear it, not really. Besides, I would do it again. Wouldn't change one thing, it was all working out in the end.

"I… If they were dead would I be able to find them?"

I hadn't thought of that. How far did this reach? Was Waylon back just to haunt me? A handful of phantasmal Murkoff corporate executives fled into an alleyway. It couldn't just be me who was haunted by ghosts of the past.

"Maybe."

"I guess that means I have too look for them"

"Sure" that and I needed to find the source of this. We walked passed a building, its concrete surface had been twisted and stretched like molten metal to wrap around dismembered remains of a dozen dead men. Someone was hunting in my territory.

I shook my head to fling the thought from my mind. Even though my eyes were closed I could still see a neon orange trail leading from the warped wall.

"Do you know where they could be?"

The trail lead northwards, it all lead to the north. It was warmer there, I shivered slightly less as we walked.

"Yes"

The ground twisted along the orange trail. The rest of the city was black. I hadn't opened my eyes, there was too much. Someone was trapped under an overturned bus to my right. A pack of warped and demon infested hounds ripped a living man to shreds a block to the west.

"Miles? Hello?" A pale gray film coated everything when Waylon spoke, it was hard to notice anything past the veil of the grave.

"Still here," barely, " keep talking"

"Ok… um… What are we doing?"

"Going north" obviously

"But, why?"

So many reasons, to hunt, to win. To join.

***Blakes POV***

We had crawled from the fire escape and onto the roof.

"Don't tell me you're going to actually do it," Sorensen asked from beside me.

"What other choice do I have?" arresting Miles wasn't going to work, I don't think that a bullet was going to be able to put him down either.

The agent didn't have anything to retort with, but she tried anyways,

"There's just no way of knowing if it will actually work, I'm pretty sure that that thing was lying to us."

"Probably, but we're out of options"

I looked over the edge of the building. The street looked empty, but I knew better than to think it was safe. There was a purple-gray fog only a block to the north, occasionally a silvery form would move in and out of it.

"Do you see that?" I asked the agent.

She looked into the distance, "I don't think so, everything gets kind of blurry after a block"

"You don't see the smoke?"

"No."

"How about silver lights?"

"No."

Great, looks like I'm mostly on my own. I was about to speak again, but the agent beat me to it.

"Take cover. There's something up there" She was looking skyward while she went towards a door that lead into the building below.

I glanced up before following, there were black shapes against the red sky that were far too big to be ordinary birds. The door came open when the agent tried it, I quickly made my way inside. The door shut with a heavy metal click that echoed down the stairwell.

"Keep behind me" Sorenson went down the stairs first, gun held low but ready. I wasn't sure if that was going to do much good, but I wasn't keen on the idea of being in front, so I followed closely behind. Apparently we were in an apartment, the rooms were numbered and occasionally I could hear someone speaking through the doors. On the third floor we came to an apartment that had been broken into. A few splinters littered the ground, more clung to the doorframe. The door was missing completely.

The agent stepped over the threshold.

"What are you doing?" I whispered from behind, trying hard not to be heard.

"Someone might need help in here"

Right, because we would be so helpful right now.

I had a bad feeling but followed the agent anyways. The rest of the home was mostly undisturbed. A muted TV flickered in the background, the end tables were cluttered, the refrigerator door hung open, other than that there was no sign of a struggle beyond the door.

"Hello?" The agent asked the room.

I tensed a little, waiting for something to jump out.

The only response was the slight hum of the refrigerator.

"We should keep moving" if experience had taught me anything it was that sitting still was a death sentence. Besides, I still needed to find Lynn.

Sorenson looked around the room. I went to the window, maybe there was a way to climb down from here: the hallways were cramped with too many blind corners. There was another fire escape a window or two over, it wouldn't be hard to climb to from here. Sorenson was rummaging through something behind me while I looked out the window and down the street.

The purple haze was definitely growing, it gave me a sinking feeling just looking at it. More silvery shapes hovered at its edge, just far enough not to be able to make out the details. Beyond the glistening shapes, bigger more sinister things lurked. A slight breeze carried the stench of rotting meat on it. I didn't want to think about what I would find beyond the fog.

"We need to keep moving," I turned to look for Sorenson, "come on..." I found only an empty apartment behind me.

"...Sorenson?" I backed up so that I was against the window.

I got no response from the empty room. There was a crash from somewhere out on the streets.

I jumped a little when something small and metallic rolled from a dim hallway. I kept an eye on the hall but bent down to pick up the bead.

It was a bullet.

I lifted the window open and crawled through it. No sound came from the empty room while I shimmied across the outside of the building to another fire escape. It was a coward's move but I didn't look back before climbing to the ground and leaving the alleyway.

Now I was completely on my own.

***Waylons POV***

"Hello? Miles?" he hadn't answered me "What are we doing?" the ground was getting uneven, like it had been melted and then smeared back in place with a dull knife. "Are you even listening to me?"

There was a fog in the air, I hadn't noticed it but everything had a strange gray-purple filter over it. Something round and a building's length away floated a yard off of the ground. I stopped, it came closer. Miles still walked at the same pace.

Someone laughed, maybe five feet away from me, I turned my head to see half a dozen people wading through the fog. They were missing skin, dull patches of rusted metal had been riveted into their arms and torsos, one grinded against the other and sliced the flesh of both of their legs to ribbons.

Dead or not I ran to the side, I must have seen a hundred men with metal growing from their organs at Mount Massive, but I didn't have the stomach see it again. I huddled against more warped concrete, Miles didn't seem to have my problem. I had just stopped moving when a thick black cloud blotted out the purple haze. Plates of metal were flung from the haze, some of them had slivers of bone bolted to them, others were flung with enough force that they embedded themselves into concrete and asphalt. The laughter gave way to a rash of static that would have sent my ears bleeding. Seconds later the only one standing in the street was a perfectly clean Miles. That orb still floated closer.

It was ten feet across and looked everywhere at once. The ground beneath it twisted and warped, I tried to look away but was frozen in place. The orb was a single great eye, one pinpoint pupil filled the white void. It grew coser and brought the sound of muffled screaming with it. Something gray move in the empty white, then something else. Hands pushed at the skin of the eye, gray outlines of a thousand hands clawed from inside the thing. It took no notice of its bulging sides or the agonized screaming that was coming from inside it's own body.

I tried to run but the wind shifted and I was being pulled towards the thing.

There was nothing to hold onto, the world went black. The moans a thousand trapped souls were nearly drowned out by the sharp ringing of static. I felt myself being stretched apart in the shifting wind, a pulsing white-gray body appeared at the edge of sight. I was an inch away from the thing when a long blade of swarm pierced the orb. I dropped to the ground, the wailing got louder before clattering to a stop. I pushed myself over the warped ground unable to look away from the scene above.

A hundred thin lines of swarm stabbed into the floating creature. Miles ripped at it with his remaining arm. The orb went brittle and crumbled to a dull gray dust wherever he touched it. More tendrils of swarm dug in, the hands that pushed against the creature from the inside fell away one by one until none remained. The single pin point pupil blinked out of existence and the body began to crumble away into nothing.

I had only crawled a couple of feet by the time all was said and done.

***Blakes POV***

A silver ghost passed me on the street.

"Hey!" I tried to get its attention.

The thing didn't even spare a glance towards me before continuing on its way away from the purple haze.

Oh well, I still needed to find Lynn.

Find Lynn, make amends, and then do what I needed to do. It was simple.

I came to the edge of the strange haze. I would have had a second thought but the growing sounds of earthy howls goaded me forward. Visibility couldn't have been more than thirty feet, I followed the white dividing line that went down the middle of the road. The noises stopped coming from the city behind me, instead opting to twist out of the fog in front of me. It didn't matter how wildly I looked into the mist, I wasn't going to see anything until it was too late.

I left the middle fo the road and walked along the sidewalk instead, I didn't want anything to jump out of the store fronts at me agains, but it was better than being completely exposed. The air grew hotter with every step and I had to pause to catch my breath. I could barely make it out over the sound of my own breathing but something that made a sharp clipping noise in the for was getting closer. I didn't want to be seen by anything in this place, I tried a door to the nearest shop, to my relief it came open.

Please don't let there be another crowd of insane people in here.

Nothing moved when I walked inside. That was good enough for me, I hid behind some cloths on a rack. From my hiding spot I had a mostly clear view of the road through a window that held a mannequin display.

The front door had just shut when something tall and on four legs stepped through the have. The clipping had been from hooves that the thing stood on. It had the body of a deer or horse, but where a head should have been was a dangling mass of shredded organs and twisted guts. Above that was a man's torso, stripped of most if skin and dripping god knows what onto the animal body below.

I tried to dig deeper into my cloth hiding spot.

It had no eyes. While it had the body of a man and a beast its head was a skull that

belonged to neither. I couldn't get a good view from where I hid, and that was good enough for me. Sightless or not I didn't want to be caught in the open around that thing.

The demon wandered along the street, each time it stepped the clattering of hooves grew louder, more of the tall four legged things cast dim shadows in the purple haze. A few of the things carried speers made from splintered bones or bows strung with muscle pulled taught. I had smelled worse, but a bit of bile threatened to fight its way from my mouth.

Just on the edge of hearing was a scream. The hunting back stiffened for a second before thundering off, spears and arrows at the ready.

I shivered to think of what would happened when they found who they were looking for.

I waited until the sound faded. I was looking for someone too, and I wasn't going to stop until I found her. When the haze had swallowed the noise I left the clothing rack.

"Holy shit, did you see that?"

I stopped mid step. Before I finished turning around I was done with my self given quest

"Lynn!" I still whispered, careful not to attract anything else that might be lurking outside.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked from just behind another row of clothing.

"Looking for you," I walked deeper into the store, out of view of the windows.

"Well you found me, new get out of here. It's dangerous."

"Trust me, I know. But I'm not about to lose you again"

"Blake, I'm dead. There's nothing to do about that." She was matter of fact, and I knew what she was saying was true. It was impossible for me to forget, but I couldn't let go. Even if it was good for me.

"I know, but… I can't just leave you out here. Not again."

"You didn't leave me anywhere. Sometimes shit just happens."

"But it didn't have to." I glanced over my shoulder, I thought I heard something crash through a building a street over.

"You did what you could. Don't get yourself killed in the name of setting things right. It's not worth it."

I looked to the ground. Was any of this worth it? The there was a slaughter going on in the streets outside, and all for what? So that Miles could bring about the apocalypse for some obscure reason?

"Blake? Are you listening to me? You did everything you could, don't kill yourself with guilt"

Guilt was the only thing I had left.

I looked at my dead wife, she was a nearly transparent silver shape among the darkened building. She had told me she wasn't mad, wasn't vengeful, or disappointed in me. That was all I had had to keep me going for the past months. I was grasping at straws now, I didn't know how to be okay. I had forgotten.

"I hear you. Lynn, look things aren't lookin good. I don't know what I'm doing anymore, I'm not sure that I really want to. But I think I have a chance to stop whatever's going on out there. It's not a very big chance, and I'm not sure it will even work. But I can't think of anything else to do."

"Run away!" there wasn't a pause before she spoke, "whatever you're thinking of doing, don't. Turn around, leave town. I've seen you get like this before, and I'm going to tell you the same thing: Whatever is happening, it will get better. Don't do anything you can't undo."

It was nice to hear Lynn's brand of care. Everyone else always acted like they were walking on glass around me, but she always told me how it wasn't even if I didn't want to hear it.

"I can't this time. It isn't just my problem, if someone doesn't do something, then the whole world becomes a large scale Temple Gate. I can't let that happen. Even if there's only a chance of stopping it, I have to take that chance."

"For the love of… ok fine. What's your master plan?"

She was resigned, but even she had to admit that letting Temple Gate happen again was too great a threat.

"You're not going to like it"

"I already don't, no need to hold out on me."

I told her the plan.

She didn't like it.


	31. Midnight

AN: Oh boy, this chapter took a while to write. I'll be posting an Epilogue on Wednesday. See you then, please enjoy:

***Miles POV***

They were everywhere. Scorpions the size of a sedan with leathery wings, hounds made of shiny flesh twisted and stretched into straining fibres. Things shaped like men that stood ten feet tall and made from teeth that they had ripped from things that still lived.

A hundred little things with chitinous bodies wielding bones shards fashioned into weapons jumped from the buildings to attack me. Only occasional drops of greasy yellow organs made it through a cloud of swarm.

They were gone in a second, wiped from the world like every other insignificant thing that crossed my path.

I looked for my next target when something gray crept into sight, a voice that actually formed words came to me for a split second.

"You're insane!"

I looked for the owned of the noise, the bones of some other monstrosity snapped under a branch of swarm.

The silver man.

Waylon.

"What are you doing!"

I glanced at my surroundings. There was a dead woman in the yellow paste on the ground.

Maybe that last one hadn't been the monster I thought it was.

Waylon was gone before I got the chance to think of something to say back.

 _What are you doing? Forget about the man. We have other things to be doing now._

"No." I didn't bother with trying to be quite. There was no point to hiding now.

I walked deeper into the fog,

 _What did you just say?_

"I said no to forgetting. I still have a job to do." I talked and felt a little more like myself with each word, though that didn't stop me from slamming one of the scorpion monsters into a parked car with a wayward flick of the swarm.

 _Yes, a job. I thought I saw a marking I recognized back there, I have an old friend that could use a lesson…_

"I'll get to it." this section of road had been paved with organs and shit. I wasn't about to let someone do this in my town, "I have bigger problems first."

 _Leave the small things alone, they aren't worth our time._

"For once, you're right. We need to slam the gates shut, cut everyone else off from coming through"

There was a wild rash of static. It put me on edge enough to lash out with the little bit of the swarm that was purely under my control. Something wet splattered against a concrete wall.

 _Enough of your childish fantasy! We are here. The Hunt is here. You feel it. I feel it, just get on with it!_

I would love to.

"No!"

Another wave of black haze rolled across the ground, I'm not sure if it was my doing or not.

I walked along the street. Eventually I came to clean ground, there was something like a pit in the center. The air rumbled with a thousand voices, there was no telling what infernal language they spoke in, or if they were actually speaking to begin with. Screams or grunts or frantic laughter could be heard in sharp bursts. The energy was thick enough to taste.

It was salty and sweet and savory all at once. The only thing stopping the whole world from being like that was the sheer number of beasts. I heard them climbing over each other, pulling the ones that climbed high enough back down into that pit. It wouldn't be much longer until they all surged through.

 _Lend a hand. Command someone, stake a claim._

"No."

***Waylons POV***

A woman fell to the ground, ripped in half from the familiar black cloud. There was nothing to do anymore. There was nothing left of the man that I had known so many months ago. I may be dead, but there was no doubt in my mind that a monster like that could find a way to kill me again.

I turned tail and ran.

Anything I could do to help something like that was a fantasy. I just needed to find what was left of my family. If I was lucky that would be impossible.

There were more horrifying things lining the street, occasionally I would pass another silvery ghosts. A few looked terrified, most just seemed empty and confused. I only looked at them long enough to make sure I didn't know them before continuing on my way. Where should I even begin to look? I don't know how I got here, one moment I was dying at Zeichner and the next I was standing next to Miles.

I turned down a street and had to clatter to a stop to avoid falling from a shear drop in the pavement. Something far below withered in a purple-red haze. A clawed hand reached the cracked asphalt where I had been standing. Whatever was down there wasn't something I wanted to see, I turned around again and went down a new street.

"Lisa! Connor? Garret…" I hoped that I wasn't going to get a response.

There was a commotion to the side, a silvery shape was being twisted and swallowed by something the size of a toddler that looked like a half melted frog. Even after you died it wasn't safe. There were more of those things clinging to the walls and the tops of cars. I made for the nearest building. I didn't want to die a second time.

The door was locked. Damn it. I put my back to the door while I tried to look for somewhere else to hide. When one of the frog creatures came close I tried to push deeper into the shadows. The wall wasn't as solid as I thought it would be, and I'm not sure how, but I started to fall through the solid door.

I found myself inside a clothing store.

There was no point in wondering how this all worked. It didn't hesitate before finding a rack of clothing to hide behind. I would wait until whatever those things had moved on, or I would find a way to sneak out the back. I couldn't take the not knowing of what happened to my family.

When I settled into a hiding spot a rack of clothes to my left shook a little.

Oh god, don't let there be some other monster hiding in here.

I was already edging backwards when I saw a little glimmer of light reflect off of something in the rack of clothes. I stopped for a second to get a better look. Some of the silver light that was coming from me had reflected off of what looked like a pair of glasses. There was definitely a person hiding in there. They were caked over in god knows what and had a mess of an bandage covering an arm, but it was definitely a person.

I didn't dare say the first word. Person or not, they might still be a threat.

"Hello?" They whispered to me first "Can you hear me?"

I could, but I sure as hell didn't trust them. I would have ran from the rack of clothes but something heavy thudded against the window.

"Hey, he's talking to you." There was another person in here. A little bit of light trickled out from behind the man. I still didn't trust anything.

"I don't want any trouble" was the first thing I managed to breath out.

"Neither do I." the man replied.

"Hey guys, the chit chat is nice, but we have a job to do." the light in the back settled next to the man, it was a woman, just as dead as I was.

"I thought you didn't like the plan?"

"I don't. At all. But if we're going to do it, we need to do it soon."

"What are you talking about?" I shouldn't be getting involved. With my luck whoever these people were, they were just going to find a way to make things worse.

"...sorry to bother you." the man spoke first.

"Wait a second, we could use some help" the woman spoke over him.

"We don't even know who this is, what if they're crazy or something?" he tried to whisper, but I made out the words regardless.

I can't really blame him though, I had assumed the same about them.

"He's the first person to have actually replied when you talked to them. That, and we need all the help we could get."

"Fine." The man looked back at me, "So. um... I think I know how to stop all of this"

I didn't need to hear anything other than that, if what Miles had said was true then the whole world was going to turn into something like the hell outside. No one would survive that.

"I'm in."

***Miles's POV***

Someone tried to claw their way up to the street. I took their arm off. It was now or never. I couldn't see all the way to the bottom of the pit but I don't think that it matters anymore.

 _Turn around. Take the town._

I ignored the voice in my head and started climbing down the sheer drop that began where the street ended. I wasn't there long before something grabbed my leg and pulled me down into the deeper red-purple haze below.

I fell for I don't know how long before landing on something that began to move the moment I touched it. It didn't take long for me to push myself to standing, by the time I had my feet under me the ground was rolling in angry waves. If I didn't know better I would have thought that the ground was made from molten stone.

 _Get back out there._

"No!"

There were things all around me, most of them alive and twisted into impossible shapes, bone splintered out of soft tissue, filth existed in every color I could name and a few that I couldn't. Things screamed and cheered and howled. I couldn't tell you a thing about the city outside. It was gone from even the furthest of my senses. It did more to clear my head than I would have ever imagined.

"We make a stand. No one gets over that wall." It was a foolhardy claim, even I knew that, but it was all I had left to do. I had spent too long trying to stop this madness, I had to keep trying now.

There was a writhing mass of creatures, some human looking, others impossible to name creatures.

I ripped into a few of their backs. The layer of the beasts closest to me fell like dust, their wicked glee filled the air with something sickly sweet. I ripped at whatever was nearest, it was something covered in matted hair. The swarm dug into the beast's leg. I turned to look at me with a single amber colored eye before swatting me away with a club like arm that ended in a hoove.

I felt something in my head crack before staggering back as far as I could. I came to a stop when I hit something dense and sticky. The goo burned to the touch, I had a rash on my hand before I got the chance to cut the thing to shreds with a cloud of swarm.

" _There are too many of them. Don't pick a fight!"_

Too late.

Another heavy thing covered in goo came tumbling down from the wall above. I dodged to the side. A few other demons weren't as fast. One of the demons that fell to the ground reached out. It's arm ended in a single barb-like needle. I hadn't recovered from me last frantic dodge to move away, the hard nail pierced my ankle and I fell to the floor.

I ripped the demon's arm off and used back to standing. The wound to my head was only just starting to heal.

The line of monsters stopped within sight now. I had cause a big enough commotion to draw most of them to the ground. A bloody riot had broken out, black and brown goo that I'm guessing passed for blood in these things littered the ground. There was no time to appreciate what I was doing before a spider like thing spit stringy liquid out at me. I ripped through the mess with a cloud of swarm, the demon's body crumbled away just as easily, but they kept coming. A thousand evil things in a thousand different directions. There wasn't enough swarm to cover the yard. For once I was out gunned and outnumbered. A long spear came through a gap in the cloud, it landed in my side and began to shake and writhe in place.

It wasn't a spear at all, it was some other worm like monster that had bitten into my side. I spared an arm to rip the thing away. Static ragged in a shrinking dome around me. A few of the stronger things were making in through the cloud.

I pulled the monster from my side. It split in half and leaked an oily pink fluid; the things mouth stayed in place while the limp remains of its body dangled at my side.

The bigger, stronger demons were making it through the swrm. Most were missing skin, a few hand organs dangling at their sides. I could see hundreds of terrifying intentions, no matter how much I drank it in there was always more. I changed strategy and made to attack the closest thing. The rest of the swarm was stretched thin, I only made it thinner. The closest thing crumbled away, but the others grew closer. I couldn't keep up.

I couldn't keep up. Something cracked against my ribs. My ankle had only just begun to heal.

The tide had turned against me. When one creature fell to the ground as stucky rain or was washed away as dust four more came to replace it. They were retreating from the wall, but that might be my undoing. I couldn't keep this up forever.

A vine with stiff razor leaves came from the ground and wrapped around my unwounded leg. I took a split second to shred the vine. In that time three creatures died in the swarm, half a dozen other fresh monsters made it all the way through.

I couldn't keep this up. If I'm lucky I wouldn't need to.

***Blakes POV***

The street was as clear as I think it was ever going to be.

"Where are we going?" the ghostly man asked from my left.

I walked along the storefronts, ready to duck into hiding on a seconds notice. I spoke quietly, I didn't want to get anythings attention.

"I don't know how crazy this sounds to you, but I'm trying to stop the apocalypse."

"Not crazy at all." the dead man looked just as paranoid as I was, "just um... how exactly are you planning on doing that?"

"Long story short, one of these monsters that are running around told me how to close up the rift that everything is coming through."

"Come again?" the man looked more than a little shocked.

I was about to stutter out a response when Lynn spoke over me, "It sounds bad, but there's apparently no other solution here. Also, it's bothering me, what's your name?"

She caught us both off guard but the man answered.

"I'm Waylon. What was that about getting instructions from a monster?"

"Nice to meet you Waylon, I'm Lynn. This is my husband Blake. We're kind of out of options here, so just go with it."

Waylon didn't say anything before the street started crumbling away. It dropped down into what looked like bottomless canyon. The haze that hung in the air above the street become too thick to see though, though occasional harsh lines of solid black lashed through the fog. I didn't want to spend anymore time near this place.

I hope I'm not doing more harm than good.

I crouched down, the ground was mostly clear of the bile that slickened the streets outside of the fog. The coppery blood that coated my arms and legs was still wet, I dragged my hand across the ground, leaving thick brown streets behind. I drew out a shape that was hauntingly similar to the ones that Miles had scribbled around my house.

This doesn't feel right, but there's nothing else I can do.

I had just finished connecting a circle when there was a slight tremor to the ground. I had to fight to regain my balance, the ground seemed to stretch and move to cover the canyon just a little.

"That's one down, we should keep moving." it may be quite now, but I didn't trust it to stay that way.

As if it were on queue distant music started to play when I stood.

"Do you hear that?" Lynn asked from behind me.

I strained to listen "it sounds like an old barbershop quartet"

I could make out a few words, something about wanting a girl. It was getting closer.

"Run!" Waylon was already a few steps away by the time he actually said something.

That was probably the right response, I took off after him with Lynn following close behind. Occasionally something would reach over the edge of the canyon wall, only to be dragged back down into the misty depths. The flashes of black in the haze were getting less frequent. The music had faded, I needed to stop and make another mark. It looked like it had done some good back there.

I crouched to the ground and began to draw the same thing.

Please don't let this be a mistake.

Waylon and Lynn spoke to each other while I worked.

"That was close." Waylon said

"Close to what?" Lynn was a curious as ever.

"There was this guy that tried to kill me, he had that song playing in his workshop."

"Elaborate a little?"

"It doesn't matter much now. But I got trapped in a broken down insane asylum, the way things are right now kind of reminds me of it. There was one patient, a real piece of  
work, he thought everyone was a woman and he was trying to find a bride."

"Sounds a little funny when you put it that way"

"It was less funny when he started cutting people in half."

"What was the name if this facility?" Lynn was using the tone of voice that said she was on the verge of finding a juicy story to investigate.

"It's all over now, but it was Mount Massive in Colorado."

"Wait a second, Murkoffs Mount Massive?"

The ground shook once again, there was a distant metallic howling from the pit.

I had to say something. If this was the Waylon that used to work for Murkoff,

"Do you know Miles?"

There was a second of confusion from everyone, the fog in the air was lifting ever so slightly. I thought Lynn and Waylon both looked more transparent than they had a second ago.

"Yes. How do you know Miles?" Waylon was the first to speak before we started moving again.

"He broke into my house! I think this is all his fault too. How did you know him?"

"We were on the run from Murkoff for months. What do you mean he did all of this?"

"Don't ask me how, but he was talking to some sort of demon in my house – that he brought there – and then he took me and a detective hostage before going berserk, and then all hell broke loose. Literally."

"The demon was just the Walrider. He's always been like that."

"Trust me, I know all about the Walrider. This was another one."

"Look, Miles has always been kind of wild. Well, he's been wild as long as I've known him, but he's always had his heart in the right place."

Lynn chimed in on our conversation, "the road to hell is paved with good intentions. I think this time that saying is a little too literal for my tastes."

We were starting to curve around the pit and go back in the direction we started from. I kneeled to paint another symbol.

"Guys, look I don't trust Miles. At all. If you ask me, I think he's finally lost it. But he said that this was mostly Murkoffs fault, and even though it's probably not good for me, I believe that."

The ground shook a little more than last time. The sound from the pit grew slightly more distant. At least something was going right. I stood up to find that Waylon and Lynn were even more foggy and less defined than they had been.

I stood still for a second.

I don't want to lose her again.

Something like heavy hoof falls clattered against the ground. They were coming closer. The three of us ran off again.

I was doing the right thing. Everything was going to be fine. The fog lifted slightly and the world seemed a little bit brighter, a few rays of sun light cut through the purple haze. Lynn was near impossible to see when she ran through the light.

I was doing the right thing.

I hope I was doing the right thing.

***Miles's POV***

It was getting darker. From somewhere beyond the edge of vision a great rock fell from the sky. It wasn't long before my normal sight cut out completely and the world was painted in neon light against a harsh black pallet.

" _There's too many"_

"Don't care!"

Something ripped long claws against my side, I took the things hand off without a glance. A sentient liquid rolled across the ground, a few of the things broke out into blisters on contact with it. It came to my ankle but I was fine. When the water did nothing it rolled away to some place in the maelstrom.

There was still a gaping wound in my side where the strange worm had bitten me. It was gone completely, having been ripped away by something with the head of a goat and the body of a fish. If I still bled I would have been drained dry form all the nagging wounds that covered me.

Something fast and light made a run at me, dodging through the few clouds of swarm that covered the field.

I caught it with my remaining arm when it tried to jump at me. An ungodly scream twisted from its lips. For a second I saw through its eyes and felt its blood running through my veins. I was here and there. The thing fell backwards and vomited a clear liquid onto the ground.

I couldn't focus on the feeling for long. There was something blindingly bright across the crowd. I had to look away but the thing was to awful to not see. The air shivered at the presence of this thing and I knew that it could turn me inside out without an ounce of effort.

I was too stubborn to give up, especially when it was good for me.

More great stones were falling from the sky, there was a stirring in the hoard, Some of it moved away from me, pieces broke away and began to fight amongst themselves. There was a single word I could make out in the hisses and growls.

 _Plague._

The piece of me that had ran through the swarm and fallen to the ground, vomiting, stood back up again. Little pockets of the hoard fell to the same fate. A things that I had stabbed with the swarm broke out into fiery blisters. A furry beast shed all at once; papery skin was all it had left to cover its bones. Some died from the sudden infection. A few did not.

 _Plague!_

The frantic warning grew louder.

I could feel the other things. They jumped at whatever was closest to them. A dozen hands dug into a dozen bodies. I stood still in the madness.

 _Plague._

"I think we got lucky" I said to myself.

" _More than lucky…"_

I had a second to rest. I was slow to heal, there was so much broken in me. I felt a dozen things crawling to forgotten places, hunting down new victims as they went. The great and terrible light that had appeared on the other side of the canyon drifted away in search of some other place.

" _I think I found something better than the hunt."_

The area around me had been cleared completely of the living. Only crumbled and shredded bodies littered the ground. A small army that I felt in the back of my head roamed the places just out of sight.

 _Plague..._

There was only a distant echo of the word now.

I stood to listen to the sound of my own breathing.

"Is that it?"

" _For now."_ The Walrider had drifted from my shoulders, it was the only thing that floated among the carnage, like the spectre of death itself.

" _Change of plans. I think coming here was a great idea."_

"That doesn't sound good" The wound on my side slowly knitted itself back together. I took a slow step over the slurry on the ground. I stumble to the side a little when more rocks came tumbling down.

" _I think we'll have some fun here"_

Even though there was nothing in sight I still felt fear rippling through the air. I knew where these things were going. I recognized this feeling. The demons had run away screaming about a plague.

My head ached while a fracture healed. I had an idea of what was going on "don't tell me…"

" _The dreamer infection is a wonderful thing, don't you think?"_

Yes it was.

I didn't agree out loud, instead I glanced upwards: something glimmered for a second before disappearing like a shooting star in the rough cloudy sky above.

"What was that?"

***Waylon's POV***

Blake scribble some arcane symbols that seemed sickeningly similar to what I had seen in the morphogenic engine. The ground rumbled once again, though I could barely feel it now. Everything seemed impossibly bright and was impossible to see clearly. The sun had only just began to peek out from the clouds above.

"Blake? I don't think I can keep this up much longer. I don't feel great." Lynn said from somewhere to the right. I could only see her thin outline.

I guess this was a good thing. I hadn't seen Lisa or either of my sons. She had to be somewhere, I hope to god it wasn't anywhere near here. Maybe she didn't even know she had died. I hadn't until I got thrown back into this hellish excuse for a world.

"No, don't go! Not again." Blake replied. The ground was still shaking, more strongly now. That must have been the last sigil.

I felt more numb than before. Maybe I wouldn't get dragged back this time.

"It's okay. Well, okay as it's going to be. You'll be fine, don't kill yourself with guilt. Nobody wins that way."

"...you're right. I just don't want you to go."

"Hey. You're going to be fine. You're going to be better than fine. You're going to go out there and kick life's ass. Do you understand me?"

There was a slight chuckle. "Yes ma'am"

I would have loved to have everything end right there. I felt like I was only half here anyways, but there was something dark gray and green that clung to the edge of my vision.

"Hey guys?" I edged back just a little. It probably didn't matter, I wasn't going to be here much longer.

" _Touching"_ A strange and alien voice came from the dark spot. It had a hand and occasional scales would drift in and out of focus.

"Stay back! I'm not going with you." it was Blake's turn to stagger back a few steps.

" _Too bad you don't have much of choice"_ whatever it was drifted ever closer.

The ground was still shivering. I only saw the world in light shades of gray and one dark spot but I watched Lynn make a move from Blake's side. There was barely enough time to realise what I was seeing and it was far too late to do anything about it.

Lynn had made a run for the dark thing. It hadn't been expecting anyone to fight back and stumbled when she hit it. The two of them staggered for just a second before slipping over the edge of the shrinking canyon.

"Lynn!" Blake ran for the edge but wasn't even close to being in time to catch them.

The other side of the street had come back to my limited view. There was no following them now.

The last thing that I saw was Blake kneeling at the edge of a valley that was no longer there.

***Miles's POV***

The light from the shooting star didn't last long. A few seconds after it disappeared something familiar hit the ground with a thin and hollow thud.

" _Hello_ _there Old Friend"_

The black cloud on the ground made a shaking start before hovering slightly above the bile slickened ground.

"Something tells me you didn't plan on seeing me again" if the trickle of fear and worry coming from the thing was anything to go off of.

" _Non-sense. I was just coming by to tell you that you've been double crossed. It seems like your friend trapped you in here. If you want I could find a way to get you back out there. Revenge is always sweet."_

So Blake found a way to trap everything in here then. It was probably for the better. I didn't belong out there with everyone else. Not anymore, I was too dangerous. At any rate the hunt had been stopped, so mission accomplished.

" _I don't think I believe you"_ it was the Walriders turn to talk.

" _Why wouldn't you?"_

" _Oh, it may be because the last time I made a deal with you, I ended up trapped in a bottle under a monastery for a few hundred years. You always were a coward and a liar."_

" _Don't speak to me like that. I have influence in places you wouldn't believe."_

There was a hiss of static laughter, " _Disease devours all. A few of your so called friends came buy earlier. Even they know better than to cross me now."_

" _You're bluffing"_

I was getting tired of this, "Look, can we just get on with it and kill him? This is taking way too long."

" _By all means"_

About time. I took a step forward, I've been wanting to do this since I had first seen the thing

" _You wouldn't dare! I can get the Alp out of your head! I can take you back to the human world!"_

"Sorry, no sell."

I wrapped a tiny fraction of the swarm around the things billowing body. It was trapped like a dirty rat in a cage when I reached for its hidden head with my hand. The air gently rippled with a deep scream before the snake's body drifted apart.

The Old Snake, the liar and cheat, was nothing more than dust in the wind.


	32. Epilogue, The End

***Blakes POV***

I leaned back in my chair. Doctor Benson sat across from me, his notepad sat on the little table next to him. I don't think he even picked up his pen.

"And then she went over the edge?" he asked from the edge of his seat.

"She saved me," I had just finished telling him about everything I saw last week, "I know it sounds bad, but I think I feel a little better."

"That's not bad at all. It's good that you found some closure." There was still a lit bit of professionalism hanging off of him.

Not enough to keep a few curious questions at bay though, "just one more thing-"

The timer that said my session was over interrupted the doctor. There was a second where he considered ignoring the timer. Doctor Benson thought better of it before standing.

"Well, that's our time for today. I'll see you here at the same time next week?"

"Of course." I left the room after the short exchange.

There was a small crowd of new clients waiting in the lobby. The grumpy receptionist was even more sour than usual, I'm guessing that actually having to talk to people wasn't her first choice of a career.

The doctor had gotten a rash of new clients after the hunt happened. Every physiatrist in the state had. I guess that made since.

I paid at the front desk. The grumpy woman took my check with little more than an angry grumble.

I had barely reached the front door by the time the next client left the lobby to talk to doctor Benson.

Outside was pleasantly cool, winter was getting a second chance to make its mark before spring rolled in. I slowly made my way to a bus stop. I hadn't had a chance to get a new car. I barely had a need for one right now, the roads were such a mess. I sat on a bench at the stop. It was empty besides me.

There was a curfew in place. They had to call in the national guard. Most of the police were either dead or missing. I shifted a little in my spot.

No one answered when I called into work. Mitchell had come by my house the other day, apparently his apartment had literally fallen apart. I let him have the spare bedroom, I had the master bedroom. I found a little battery powered radio from the garage. If the reports were right the death toll had been in the thousands.

I'm surprised it was that low.

The bus came lumbering up, it was mostly full. If I'm not mistaken it ran between a soup kitchen and a refugee center. I slid into a seat in the back.

There was a woman fumbling with her cell phone to my left "Hello? Mary? Mary, are you there? Oh thank Christ, I've been trying to reach you. Are you okay?"

There weren't many silver linings, but things could have been so much worse.

The phone conversation lasted until I got to the stop closest to my house. At least it sounded like someone got a happy ending. I stepped onto the empty road. I had to go into a different entrance than I usually did, the normal one was an awful mess and there weren't any crews available to clean it.

Half a mile of walking later, I got to my front door.

I knocked.

"Mitchell, it's me."

There was a seconds hesitation before a series of locks clicked from their place.

"About time man, I was getting worried."

I stepped into my living room.

I had taken down the crime scene pictures. I didn't need that kind of shit starting at me all the time. I had moved the dozens of pictures of Lynn off the wall too. I didn't need the weight of imaginary guilt to drag me into an early grave. I had a foolish idea that was going to do that all on its own. I still had frames hanging, though the pictures that lived in them were much nicer.

I walk to a landscape painting of the desert. Mitchell put the locks on the door back in place while I pulled the frame away from the wall just far enough to see a symbol that I had painted onto the back of the frame.

Good, so none of them had smeared.

I set the thing back in place. I met Mitchell in the kitchen.

"You're lucky I grabbed some cans from my wreck of a house. Did you even have anything to eat in here before I showed up?"

"I kept it together." I fished through an opened kitchen drawer.

"Did you really though?" MItchell opened up a can of beans.

"...kind of." I pulled out a weathered notebook.

"Oh, not that thing again…"

I went to my couch, there was still enough daylight coming from the window to read by.

I opened the book. Miles had given me a copy. The original had been left in the mangled jacket he left in my laundry room; my copy had been missing most of the information that was in the original. I don't even want to know how long he had been writing in this thing, the pages were frayed at the edges, there were stains that I didn't want to think about. There were also a few sections that were written in a strange script that I had only just started to translate. The way it was buried in the normal block capitals made me think that Miles hadn't even noticed he was writing differently.

I flipped to the section near the end. It was a just one long table of different symbols, most of which had been left at crime scenes or scribbled onto my walls.

"Put that thing away, it gives me the creeps." Mitchell plopped down next to me with a paper bowl full of beans.

"Hold on a second. I've been thinking-"

Mitchel bit into a spoonful of food and talked over it "Oh no"

"I've been thinking," I started again, "I have this book, and there's all kinds of information in it. And I saw how the hunt started, I know how it ended. The radio says that there's been a bunch of unexplained killings and disappearances going on."

"Oh, please. We all know what's going on. It's demons and shit, the feds just don't want to say the D word outloud."

"Good to know we're on the same page. So, there's all this shit going on and I think I should be doing something about it."

"Don't you go off on your guilt trip again. You don't need to be killing yourself with guilt, Lynn would want you to be happy, you know that right?"

"I talked to her Mitchell."

There was a moment of silence, for once.

"You're right. She told me herself that I should run away and not look back. But she also told me that I need to live for myself. And I want to do something. I don't want to just sit around watching people get picked off in the night when there's something I can do to help."

Mitchell put the bowl down.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, but what are you thinking about doing?"

It was nice not to be pitied. I wasn't going to tell him anything about seeing demons outside the hunt, that might make him worried.

"I'm not talking about running off and being a monster hunter. That sounds like a good way to die horribly. But, I think the stuff in this book can tell me how to get rid of the demons that made it through. From a safe distance that is."

"Still sounds like a suicide mission. I think it's a bad decision, too dangerous."

"It may be a bad decision, but it's my decision." i stood up and went back to the kitchen.

Mitchel reached for the radio and turned it on while I opened another can of food. I still had some medication I needed to be taking, it's a good thing I had refilled my prescription before martial law got declared. I sat the book on the bar next to the only picture of Lynn I still had in the living room.

She grinned back up at me from beneath a mask of gold and green. Our honeymoon at Mardi Gras. I missed her, I wanted her back, I wanted to go back in time to before this is what life was like.

But I couldn't do that. I had to live for myself, I wanted to live for myself.

I took my meds.

I left the book on the table. I would be using it very soon.

***Miles POV***

I strolled down the center of my soot covered street.

I'm not sure if it had twisted into existence through shear force of will or if it had been here all along. No more than a week could have passed since I got trapped down here, but I had already made myself at home.

My street wasn't as empty as I was used to. A few of the things that crawled in and out of the burnt houses had the ability to speak, some had taken the time to talk to me.

Sure, most of it was a bunch of threats, but if I wasn't used to that by now I never would be.

 _There's someone trying to climb out again_ The Walrider still spent most of its time in my head, apparently it was more comfortable in there.

"They're not going to get very far."

The Walrider finally had that pack of fiends that it wanted. I was vaguely awair that they were clawing their way after whoever was trying to leave. There were so many other things that had the dreamer infection in them that I was barely able to keep track of them all.

In the end, I suppose everything worked out for the better.

I walked down a stone path that grew out of a pond of hissing water. There was a little cabin across the puddle. I let myself in. The inside was small and cozy, most of it reminded me of the apartment I lived in before all of this happened.

For the first time in a long time I sat down with nothing to do. The pack of fiends had caught whoever it was that they were after. In some ways the infection was worse down here, in other ways it was more manageable than it ever had been. I felt it more, but I had a hundred other pieces running around on a constant hunt for the uninfected. Nothing was off limits, there weren't any people trying to live their lives, there was no chance for collateral damage. I could do what I pleased and no one decent would get hurt.

I lost all of my old notes. There was a mostly empty shelf that I used to hold the new ones I wrote.

 _I say we leave the bookkeeping alone. Let's go on a hunt ourselves._

"We just got back from one. Besides, I need to update my records. It felt like the fiends just attacked a group instead of a lone demon."

There was a light rash of static.

"Oh, don't mope on me now."

 _You're boring._

"I like keeping notes, what do you want."

 _Action._

There was a distant barking, then a sharp squawk that cut off. There were weird mangled dog shaped creatures. I nick named them hellhounds. I considered making a dog house for one, I always had been a dog person.

"Go play with the dogs, I'm busy."

 _What happens when someone big tries to escape to your precious human world and you're too busy writing?_

"That's a crap argument and you know it. I'm an army now, I'd like to see someone try."

 _Fine, why don't you try to get back yourself? I'm sure there's plenty to do now that we can have free reign of the place, after cleaning up a few leftovers that is._

"Nope. I learned my lesson. I took down Murkoff, stopped the apocalypse before it really took off. Crisis averted, mission accomplished. I don't need to go back and fuck something up."

 _At least do something other than just sit here._

I finished with the journal and replaced in on the shelf.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm always planning something."

 _Probably something idiotic._

"Generally, yes. So I was wondering who was shinning so brightly before everyone realized I was a walking plague."

 _Oh right… them._

"You see, I don't like the idea of having someone bigger and scarier than me running around"

 _So you're planning an assassination._

"I didn't realize they were important enough to be assassinated instead of just murdered."

There was a moment's pause for thought by the Walrider. The dogs outside were gleefully chasing down smaller creatures.

 _The idea of ruling this world is appealing. Make no mistake, anything short of complete domination before we attack the king is going to end in a fate worse than death._

"So their a king now, huh? And don't be so dramatic, how many times have I seen a fate worse than death? I've honestly lost count."

I stood from behind the desk and went back outside. I thought I felt something poking around a different edge of my street.

 _Fine, don't come crying to me when things go horribly wrong._

"I'm not sure what I would do if everything went off without a hitch"

 _It's a shame the infection didn't turn your brain to mush._

"You're my best friend too."

I took a step outside. A small pack of dogs were tossing their catch back and forth; they yipped and barked like normal dogs, tails with flaps of skin attached only my matted and mangy fur wagged hard enough that I was afraid they were going to fall off.

I think I was going to like it down here.

***AN***

As is tradition I'm putting the final note here at the bottom. First off, thanks to all of you for reading all the way to the end, you have no idea how great it was to see traffic trickle into all these stories and I absolutely loved hearing from the handful of you who reviewed. It's honestly hard to believe that the story is finished, but I'm going to have to end it here. I like to think that the adventure continues for Miles and Blake, but I think that that's better left to the imagination. I figure we got to the apocalypse, and there's really no way to raise the stakes from there without getting kind of ridiculous.

That being said, this is probably the closets thing to a (mostly) happy ending I think I could pull out of a series like this. I would love to hear from you for one last time, and if there are any questions/comments that get asked that really need answers I'll come back in a week and reply to them here.

On a side note, the first chapter of the first story was posted on this day, exactly 3 years ago. I just thought that was neat.

Thank you for reading.

P.S.

Alright, so I'm back to answer a couple of questions, I hope that my explanations make some sense:

1\. What was the world Miles dragged demons into?

I'm assuming you mean the burnt out street. During its first appearance I intended it to be some sort of dream world. Basically it was a way for me to describe what was happening during the mental attacks from the dreamers and then by Miles using the same ability. It showed up again here at the end as an actual physical place in this sort of hell dimension Miles has found himself in.

2\. Why did Waylon and Lynn show up?

I do admit that I only gave a sentence of explanation for that one in the story. There was a second where Blake recalled that the dead walking the earth was a sign of the apocalypse he learned about in Sunday school. Depending on how you interpret parts of Christian mythology that's kind of true, and I figured it fit thematically in the story. Also, I really needed a way to 1) tie up Blakes recovery arc and 2) find a way to follow Miles around without it being from a completely confusing point of view.


End file.
